


Child of the Doctor

by EbonySolcum



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Post Darillium, River and the Doctor's child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 75,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonySolcum/pseuds/EbonySolcum
Summary: River and the Doctor had a child on Darillium but, due to circumstances, she was made human and placed on Earth. One day she begins attending the Doctor's lectures and he can't help but begin teaching her himself.Or, an AU rewrite of Series 10 of "Doctor Who" because I love the theory that Bill could have been the Doctor and River's daughter and I'd like to explore that more.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 199
Kudos: 123





	1. The Pilot Part 1

The Doctor was used to people slipping into the lecture hall in the middle of his talks. He always glanced at them out of the corner of his eye but he never acknowledged them. He just continued talking about whatever subject he had decided on. However, the first time she had entered the hall, hovering by the door before slipping into a seat near the back, it had taken everything in him to continue talking and not stare at her like an idiot.

It had been nearly a hundred years since he had seen her. When he had chosen St Luke's University he had known they'd eventually be in the same city, but he hadn't ever considered that she might become a student at his university.

He managed to keep lecturing, but he kept his gaze fixed on the opposite side of the room. He hoped that not looking at her would let him focus on what he was saying but he was still acutely aware of her. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, as if she was afraid she might be asked to leave. He could see her watching him, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a confused smile.

The Doctor ended his lecture nearly twenty minutes early. Ignoring the groans of the students filing out of the room, he left the stage and made his way to his office.

“Nardole!” he called. “I need to see the list of students.”

There was no response.

“Nardole?”

Letting out a frustrated growl, he checked the side room. It was empty. Running a hand through his hair, he took his seat behind his desk. His gaze fell on the three picture frames off to one side. He picked up the middle one and stared at it.

“Nardole!” he shouted again. He set the picture down and got to his feet. When Nardole didn't appear, he left the room and made his way down to the records office. The woman at the desk was talking on the phone but she motioned for him to wait. He slumped against the desk, waiting for him to finish.

“Can I help you, Doctor?” she asked when she had put down the phone.

“Uh, yes. I'd like to see a list of the students’ names?”

“Just a moment.”

She turned and pulled opened a drawer. Then she extracted a file and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He opened it and quickly flipped to the names starting with “P”. Then he ran a finger down the list, searching for one he recognized.

It wasn't there.

“Are you looking for someone specific?”

“Uh, no. No,” he lied.

“I could look them up,” the woman offered, gesturing to the computer.

The Doctor considered this for a moment before nodding.

“Right, yes. There-- Is there someone in this university by the name of Potts? Bill Potts?” he asked carefully.

The woman turned to the computer and began typing. She spoke a moment later.

“Yes, there is a Bill Potts here, but she's not a student. Is this her?”

The Doctor looked at the screen to see Bill's smiling face.

“Yes, that's her. But she’s not a student?”

“No. She works in the canteen. Shall I--”

“No,” he interrupted. “No. It's alright. Thank you though.”

He turned quickly and walked away, leaving the confused woman staring after him.

“Why does she have to be here?” he muttered.

It was a few days before he saw her again. This time, she entered the lecture hall with the other students, finding a seat towards the middle of the room. The Doctor spent the entire lecture watching her out of the corner of his eye. When it was over, he made his way back to his office where he took his seat and sat staring at the pictures on his desk.

Nardole came in a few minutes later, babbling about something or other. He stopped abruptly when the Doctor didn't look up.

“Is something wrong, sir?” he asked.

“She's here.”

“What?”

“She's here,” the Doctor repeated. “At the University.”

“Who's here, sir?” Nardole said.

“Bill.”

“Oh.”

“She came to my lecture a few days ago,” he explained. “Then she came again today.”

“I see. Is she a student?”

“No. Not everyone who comes to my lectures is a student, Nardole,” he said.

“Hmm. So that's why you decided to stay in Bristol.”

“No. I chose Bristol because it's not London. I've been in and out of London so many times in the last century and had to stop so many alien attacks. I chose Bristol to keep out of my way.”

Nardole made an unconvinced sound but he left the room without saying anything.

Bill continued coming to the Doctor's lectures. Soon she was attending every one. He let himself watch her, though he was careful not to let her notice. She looked just the same as she had the last time he had seen her, all those years ago.

A few weeks after she had begun attending regularly, the Doctor called Nardole into his office. He heard him enter but didn't look up from the papers at his desk.

“Could you run down and tell someone to send Bill up some time today?”

“But, sir--”

“I'd like to see her.”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

The Doctor looked up to find Nardole staring at him suspiciously. He scowled.

“None of your business,” he snapped. “Just make sure she knows to come.”

His assistant frowned, still eyeing him suspiciously as he turned to leave. When he was gone, the Doctor picked up the middle picture and tucked it into a drawer.

The Doctor had just begun playing Beethoven's Fifth on his guitar when he heard someone clearing their throat in the main office. He moved to stick his head through the door. Bill was sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He pulled back into the room and reached for his sonic screwdriver. He pointed it at the speakers, disconnecting his guitar before putting it down and picking up a record. He stepped into the doorway again. “Potts?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning to look at him.

“Bill Potts,” he clarified. He moved across the room, trying to avoid her gaze.

“You wanted to see me.”

“Er, you're not a student at this university,” he said, beginning to fiddle with the records laid out on a small table. He had almost forgotten how confident Bill was.

“Nah, I work in the canteen,” she explained.

“Yeah, but you come to my lectures.”

“No, I don't,” she said quickly. “Wha-- I-I never do that.”

“I've seen you,” he countered, finally turning to look at her and pointing a record in her direction.

“Love your lectures,” she admitted. “They're totally awesome.”

“Why'd you come to my lectures when you're not a student?”

“Okay, so my first day here, in the canteen, I was on chips. There was this girl. Student. Beautiful. Like a model, only with talking and thinking. She looked at you and you perved.”

The Doctor turned to glance at her, certain that this explanation wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“Every time, automatic, like physics,” Bill went on. “Eye contact, perversion. So I gave her extra chips. Every time, extra chips. Like a reward for all the perversion. Every day, got myself on chips, rewarded her. Then finally, like, finally, she looked at me, like she'd noticed, actually noticed, all the extra chips. Do you know what I realised?”

He turned to look at her.

“She was fat,” she said. “I'd fatted her. But that's life, innit? Beauty or chips. I like chips. So did she. So that's okay.” She laughed nervously and he had to keep himself from smiling.

“And how does that in any way explain why you keep coming to my lectures?” he asked, moving to stand behind the desk. He knew it had nothing to do with it and had actually expected an answer like this. Bill had always had a habit of launching into long, detailed explanations that didn’t lead to a point. When he had complained about it to River, she had laughed and told him he finally knew what it was like for other people to listen to him talking.

“Yeah, it doesn't really, does it? I was hoping something would develop,” she laughed nervously. Then she turned to look at the TARDIS. “What's that? A police telephone box?”

“Yeah,” he said proudly. He moved to stand near it.

“Did you build it from a kit?”

He turned to frown at her. “No, it came like that.”

“Then how did you get it in here?” she demanded. “The door's too small and so are the windows.”

“I had the window and a part of the wall taken out and it was lifted in,” he lied.

“What, with a crane?”

“Yeah, with a-- a crane,” he said, raising a hand to demonstrate. “It's heavier than it looks. Why do you keep coming to my lectures?” He stepped forward to sit behind his desk as she replied.

“Because I like them. Everybody likes them. They're amazing,” she explained. “Why me?”

“Why you what?”

“Well, plenty of people come to your lectures that aren't supposed to. Why pick on me?”

“Well, I noticed you,” he said, his eyes fixed on the two pictures remaining on his desk.

“Yeah, but why?”

He hesitated. Part of him longed to tell her the truth, but he knew that saying, “because you’re my daughter and I’ll always notice you,” probably wouldn’t go over well with the headstrong young woman sitting across from him. He could tell she was already uneasy about the whole thing.

“Well, most people when they don't understand something, they frown,” he said. “You . . .” He pointed at her. “. . .smile.” He grinned and she offered him the same confused smile he had been talking about.

“I'll tell you what I don't understand,” she said. 

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. 

“You've been lecturing here for a long time. Like, fifty years, some people say. Nabeela in the office says over seventy.”

“Yeah, and you're thinking, 'Well, he doesn't look old enough'.”

“No. I'm wondering what you're supposed to be lecturing on,” she explained. He frowned. “It's like the university let you do whatever you like. One time, you were going to give a lecture on quantum physics. You talked about poetry.”

“Poetry, physics, same thing.”

“How is it the same?”

“Because of the rhymes. What are you doing at this university?” he demanded.

“I always wanted to come here.”

“Yeah, to serve chips?” he teased.

She gave him a condescending smile. “So anyway, am I nearly done?”

“Do you want to be?”

“See ya,” she said, getting to her feet.

The Doctor watched her stand, an amused glint in his eye.

“You ever get less than a first, then it's over,” he said as she reached for the door handle.

She turned to look at him.“You what?”

“A first,” he repeated, picking up some papers and pretending to be busy. “Every time, or I stop immediately.”

“Stop what?”

“Being your personal tutor,” he explained. He looked up at her and grinned.

“But I'm not a student,” she reminded him. “I'm not part of the university. I never even applied.”

He got to his feet and hurried over to her. “We'll sort all that out later.”

“You kinda have to sort that out earlier.”

“Leave it with me. I'm assuming that it's a yes.”

“Yes,” she said as if she could barely believe it.

“I'll see you at six p.m. every weekday. I don't care who's dying, never, ever be late. I'm very particular about time,” he said, pointing at her to make sure she understood.

She nodded wordlessly. She started to turn back to the door but then stopped. “Oh, um-- People just call you the Doctor. What do I call you?”

“The Doctor,” he said. It wasn’t what he’d like her to call him, but it was the only option.

“But Doctor's not a name. I can't just call you Doctor,” she laughed nervously. “Doctor what?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, mildly annoyed at her choice of words.

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “I’ll see you at six tomorrow then.”

She pulled the door opened and vanished into the hall. He stared after her for a moment before returning to his desk, a satisfied smile on his face.

The next day, the Doctor chose to talk about one of his favourite subjects: time. He knew he couldn’t tell Bill about time travel, or introduce her to the TARDIS, but there was no reason he couldn’t teach her about the concepts. He could help her understand how time worked and introduce her to what TARDIS meant, and maybe, one day, he could have his daughter back.

As six o’clock approached, he climbed the spiral staircase to the little balcony area and began choosing books for his lesson with Bill. He didn’t bother with easy subjects, she’d master those in no time at all. He wanted to teach her the more complex things; things she wouldn’t learn by just attending the university. He knew that, even though she didn’t currently have a Time Lord’s mind, she was still brilliant and would be able to keep up with what he wanted to teach her.

Just as the clock struck six, the door swung open and Bill entered the room. “Am I on time?” she asked, looking like she couldn’t quite believe she wasn’t late.

“That's a very big question,” he replied. He looked at the book in his hand before tossing it at her. She caught it and looked at the cover. “What’s your favourite subject?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I like everything,” she said. “Though I quite like history.”

The Doctor let himself chuckle quietly. “You would,” he murmured. He climbed down the stairs and motioned for her to sit. “Alright, Miss Potts. Lots to do.”

The weeks stretched on and the Doctor couldn’t help feeling more and more proud of himself, and of his daughter. Bill was rising to every challenge he set for her. She hardly ever got a perfect score, but he didn’t expect her too. She was learning challenging stuff and he was grading her harder than he would have graded a regular student. However, she was still getting excellent grades, and he was confident she understood what she was learning.

Nardole, on the other hand, wasn’t so pleased. He hadn’t said anything, but the Doctor had caught him eyeing him critically several times since he had begun teaching Bill. It was late October before he said anything.

The Doctor motioned for Nardole to keep up. They quickly made their way around the corner and down to the cellar where he had placed the vault. He had begun fiddling with the locking mechanism when Nardole spoke up.

“So you're-- you’re tutoring her, then? Hmm?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“You're not supposed to get involved,” Nardole reminded him. “What are you teaching her, anyway?”

“Everything.”

“Well, how can you teach anyone everything?” he demanded.

“Because everything rhymes,” he said.

“Oh.”

Ignoring him, the Doctor when back to trying to unlock the door. He muttered to himself as the lock beeped.

“Yeah, you want to turn that,” Nardole pointed out.

He kept working and the lock beeped again.

“You want to rotate it,” Nardole repeated.

The lock began making a sound similar to a sonic screwdriver. It stopped when the Doctor and Nardole turned to look behind them. They had heard something clatter to the floor.

“The door upstairs, how did you set the security?” the Doctor asked.

“Friends only,” Nardole replied.

He looked at him, frowning slightly, before turning back to the door.

“So turn it, and then it'll--” Nardole broke off when the Doctor glared at him.

“I'm turning it, aren't I?”

He nodded and kept silent. The Doctor turned back to the lock and continued working. He got a few minutes of silence before Nardole spoke again.

“Sir, about Bill--”

“I’m not discussing Bill with you,” he interrupted. “She’s my daughter and I can teach her if I like.”

“But you’re not supposed to get involved. What if she starts to remember?”

“Then I’ll have my daughter back and I can keep her safe myself. I should never have left her here in the first place.”

“You had no alternative,” Nardole reminded him.

“No,” the Doctor sighed. “I was just too afraid to make the other choice.”

“Doctor!”

The Doctor looked up to find Bill grinning down at him, holding up a long package wrapped in festive paper.

“Happy Christmas!” she exclaimed.

“Happy Christmas,” he replied.

She dumped the package on his desk and took a seat. He quickly tore the paper away to reveal what was inside.

“It's a rug,” he observed. He looked up. “Haven't got you anything.”

“It's okay, it was cheap,” she said.

He looked between it and her. He felt guilty about not having gotten her a present; not because she had gotten him something, but because she was his daughter. The truth was, he had practically forgotten about Christmas. The last Christmas he had celebrated had been nearly a hundred years ago, and it had been one of the worst days of his extremely long life. They had tried to celebrate normally for Bill’s sake, but there had been a tension in the air. They had exchanged gifts, sang Christmas songs, told stories, and eaten their Christmas dinner. Then, as the day came to an end, the sun had risen and they had had to say their goodbyes.

“I know what I can do,” the Doctor said, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “I’ll send Nardole down to get us some snacks and some Christmas crackers.”

About half an hour later, they were sitting across from with paper crowns on their heads and snacks on the desk. When Nardole had returned with what the Doctor had asked for, Bill had suggested he joined them, but he had shaken his head and vanished into the other room, leaving the pair to celebrate together.

Bill was watching the Doctor as he sat back in his chair, one hand on the rug she had given him. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he quite liked the gift, if only because it was Bill who had given it to him.

“Going anywhere for Christmas?” she asked.

He looked up and chuckled softly. “I never go anywhere,” he said. He felt the unspoken “anymore” keenly.

“That's not true. You go places,” she challenged. “I can tell. My mum always said, 'With some people, you can smell the wind in their clothes’.”

“Hmm?” The sound of his wife's words being quoted by their daughter had thrown him and he had to keep from glancing at her picture. “She sounds . . . nice,” he stammered.

 _She’s not supposed to remember either of us_ , he thought. _How does she know what River said?_

“She died when I was a baby,” Bill admitted.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The Doctor frowned. What Bill had said had been something River had once told her, but not until she was at least ten. He didn’t know exactly what Bill remembered as her childhood, so he decided to test her story. “If she died when you were a baby, when did she say that?”

“In my head,” she replied. She looked a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, I'm supposed to look like her, but I don't really know. There's hardly any photographs. She hated having her picture taken.”

The Doctor frowned. He wished he could have given Bill pictures of River but that would have defeated the whole point.

“But if someone's gone, do pictures really help?” Bill asked.

He stared at her before letting his gaze fall on the two picture frames sitting on the desk. River and Susan gazed back at him and he felt his hearts sink a little. He missed them both so much, especially River. It had been over 1500 years since he had seen his granddaughter so that ache had lessened considerably, but every time he thought about what had happened to his wife, his whole world seemed to shatter. But even then, the sight of her smile made it whole again.

“Yes,” he replied softly. “It does.”

The Doctor emerged from the TARDIS holding shoebox-sized cardboard box and nearly bumped into Nardole.

“What were you doing in there?” he demanded.

“I didn’t go anywhere if that’s what you’re worried about,” the Doctor said. He stepped around him and made his way to his desk. Setting the box on the surface, he lifted the lid and looked at the contents. “I was just looking for this.”

“What is that?”

Nardole approached the desk and peered inside. “Pictures of Doctor Song?”

“Pictures of Bill’s mum,” the Doctor said triumphantly.

“Same thing.” He frowned at him. “What do you want these for?”

“Well, Bill said she didn’t know what her mother looked like because there weren’t any pictures of her. I figured I’d fix that.”

“You can’t give her pictures of Doctor Song!” Nardole exclaimed. “She’s not supposed to know about you!”

“Here’s the thing,” the Doctor explained. “The Chameleon Arch is a very complicated piece of technology. I’ve had to use it myself. Anyway, the watch is holding her Time Lord consciousness so, obviously, it’s got a perception filter to keep her from noticing it. However, it also acts as a perception filter for those around her. It makes it so that her foster mother thinks she’s raised her since she was a baby when in reality Bill’s only been living on Earth for about six years. Now, because Bill’s not supposed to remember me or her mother, I think the perception filter should make these pictures look like whatever vague image Bill has of the woman she remembers as her mother.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

The Doctor shrugged.

“Now, I am going to take the TARDIS for a little trip,” he said. “But only to about four years ago, to drop these off in Bill’s house.”

He looked up to find Nardole glaring at him.

“You can come with me if you’re so afraid of me running off. I’m only going to do that one thing. I’ll be back a second later.”

“Happy new term!” Bill exclaimed as she came into the office.

The Doctor was crossing the room, his arms laden with papers. “With you in a moment,” he said before stepping through the other door. He set his papers down and began looking for the stack of books he had prepared for their first lesson of the year.

He heard Bill asking a question but only caught the words “crane” and “box”.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he called.

“Uh, nothing,” she replied.

He found the books and carried them back into the office where he dumped them on the desk.

“There you go.”

Bill began sorting through the stack, glancing at the titles. He was glad to see she looked excited. Only a few books earned a frown.

“How was your holiday?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Oh, it was fine. How was yours?”

“Good.” She stared at the cover of a book, but he could see she wasn’t really looking at it. She looked up a moment later. “You know how I said there weren’t any pictures of my mum?”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Well, it turns out they were all in a shoebox in the back of a cupboard. My foster mum found them a couple weeks ago,” she said.

“Well, that’s good. And do you look like her?”

“I suppose so, but I can’t really see it. But I mean, people are always telling people who they look like but they can never really see it, can they?” She paused. “When you were a child did people ever tell you you looked like your dad or your mum?”

He looked at her curiously. It was a good question. “Ah, I don’t remember. Anyway, I know who I look like now and it certainly isn’t my parents.”

Bill looked up. “Who do you look like now?”

The Doctor laughed. “Enough about me. Let’s-- Why don’t we study some physics?”

She nodded and took the book he offered her, but she didn't open it.

"The funny thing is, sometimes when I look at the pictures, it feels like I'm not really seeing them. I mean, it feels like I'm seeing a picture of someone else, but it's still a picture of my mum."

 _I suppose that means the perception filter's working_ , the Doctor thought, but he gave her a sceptical look. 

She looked embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry. I know it sounds dumb." She held up the book. "Physics."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter of my new book. I know it's really long but I think most of the chapters in this book will be.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please let me know what you think! I quite like this idea and I'm really excited to be writing it, even though it's very time-consuming.


	2. The Pilot Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait a little longer before posting this, but seeing as I've already got "The Pilot" completely written (and since I'm so impatient), I figured I'd just post part 2 now.

The Doctor was busy writing when heard the door creak open and shut. He looked up, expecting to see Nardole. 

It was Bill. 

He was about to remind her that there was still an hour until their lesson, but the look on her face made him stop.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I -- Uh, I met this girl called Heather last term and-- Well . . .”

Bill wandered across the room to stare out the window. The Doctor rested his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together, resting his chin against them. He was prepared for a long, rambling explanation, but he was certain she’d make her point in the end.

“One day, I found her sitting on a bench, and I thought she looked freaked out, so I asked her what was wrong. She took me to the service area and showed me a puddle. She said something was wrong with my reflection, but she wouldn’t tell me what. Then she just ran off.

“I found her there again today, and she offered to show me what was wrong. You’ve got to go a long way round to get in, and by the time I got there, she was gone. I don’t even know where she went. It’s like she vanished. I wish she wouldn’t do that ‘cause I really like her. She’s really pretty and she’s got a star in her eye. She said it was a defect, but what kind of defect puts a star in your eye? But that doesn't even matter because she was right. There was something wrong when you looked in the puddle.

“That was definitely my face. I see my face all the time. I've never liked it, it's all over the place. It's always doing expressions when I'm trying to be enigmatic. I know my face, and there was something wrong . . .”

She kept going but the Doctor had heard enough. He jumped out of his chair and darted out of the office, quickly making his way out of the building. A moment later, he was running across the quadrangle in the direction of the service area. He heard Bill calling after him but he didn’t stop until he had found the puddle she had been talking about. He leaned over it and stared inside.

Why do you run like that?” she demanded when she caught up with him.

“Like what?”

“Like a penguin with its arse on fire.”

“Ergonomics.” He frowned at the puddle. “That's my face, yeah?” he asked, pointing at his reflection.

“You seem a bit flexible on the subject.”

“Oh, you've no idea,” he joked.

“Maybe it's got to do with that thing in her eye.”

“How?” he prompted.

“Maybe she's like, affected by something.”

“By what?” He was proud of her for trying to figure this out. He wanted to see if she could go further.

“I don't know,” she said. “Look, I know you know lots of stuff about, well, basically everything, but do you know any sci-fi?”

The Doctor looked up at her, trying his hardest to avoid rolling his eyes. A lot of what fell under the category of “sci-fi” was stuff he had dealt with on a regular basis. Unfortunately, there was nothing fictional about it. He was rather afraid this fell under the same category, but he was also curious to know what had prompted Bill to think it might.

He straightened up. “Go on,” he said slowly.

“Well, what if she's possessed. Something like that,” she suggested.

_Well, done. It’s possible,_ he thought. Out loud, he said, “Possessed by what?”

“I don't know,” she said again. He waited for her to continue. She gasped. “I saw this thing on Netflix. Lizards in people's brains.”

_Movies. That’s where you get the idea of sci-fi. Not memories_. He frowned. “Right. So, you meet a girl with a discoloured iris and your first thought is she might have a lizard in her brain?”

_Not very realistic_ , he thought. “I can see I'm going to have to up my game.”

He turned back to the puddle. “Oh,” he gasped.

“What?”

He walked away from the puddle as he exclaimed, “Oh!”

“What is it, what?” Bill demanded.

“Oh, I get it.” He hurried back to the puddle to look inside again. “I see it.” He turned to his daughter. “It was easy for your friend because of her eye.”

“What, because it gives her special powers?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Because her face isn't symmetrical. Look!”

He caught her by the arm and led her over to the puddle. “Look into the puddle. Your face looks wrong, because it looks right. What's the one thing you never see when you look at a reflection? Your face. You never see your face the right way round.” Bill leaned towards the water. “Right. Look for a freckle or a funny tooth. Something that's not symmetrical.”

“My badge!” she exclaimed. She raised her hand to where the puddle showed her badge would be, but it wasn’t there.

“See, your friend saw it straight away because of her eye,” he explained. He laughed.

“But, it's moving like a reflection,” she pointed out.

The Doctor’s smile was replaced by a frown. He began moving around the puddle. “It's not . . . reflecting you, it's mimicking you. There's something in the water pretending to be you.”

He pulled a test tube out of his pocket and scooped some of the water into it. He raised it to his face to get a closer look at it.

“Of course, it isn't water,” he said, corking the tube and tucking it away. He got to his feet and turned to the black marks he had noticed on the ground. “Now what are these? Let's have a look.”

“What are they?” Bill asked.

“Scorch marks,” he explained. “Interesting.”

Then he remembered who he was talking to. _She’s not one of my companions. She can’t know about aliens and monsters. She can’t know about me._

“Right, you,” he called, running over to distract Bill from the marks on the ground. “Let's get you on the bus.”

“The what? The bus?” she stammered.

“Tutorial's over, take the night off. It's all cancelled,” he said, hurrying her over to the gates. “Go and be a proper student. Texts, snogging, a vegan wrap.”

“But what about the puddle?” she asked.

“Oh, it's just some freak optical effect. I'm bored already,” he lied.

As soon as Bill was gone, the Doctor set about analysing the liquid from the puddle. He performed several tests on it but he didn’t have the right equipment with him to come up with proper results. A few hours later, he was staring at it through an eyepiece. Suddenly, Bill burst into the room. She stared at the door for a moment before grabbing a chair and jamming it under the door handle. This was followed by the sound of rushing water.

“Hello, Bill,” he said, setting the eyepiece down and starting towards her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed.

He quickly moved forward to stare at the door. “What's that?”

Water was beginning to flow through the crack under the door, forming a puddle on the floor.

“I'll tell you what it isn't. It isn't a freak optical effect,” Bill gasped.

The water formed the shape of a head and a human figure began to rise from the puddle. Bill moved away from it, backing towards the TARDIS.

“And it's following me,” she cried.

The Doctor raised a hand and approached the figure. It looked like a human woman, except for the fact that it was soaking wet and standing in its own personal puddle. Water was pouring off her. She turned to look at him and he noticed the star in her eye.

_Bill’s friend._

“No, no, what are you doing?” Bill demanded.

“I'll tell you what, let's just pop into my box.” He quickly moved around her and opened the TARDIS door.

“Your box? What good is getting in your box going to do?”

He pushed her inside and remarked, “What an extraordinarily long and involved answer this is going to be.”

The Doctor stepped inside and shut the door. Then opened it to grab the “Out of Order” sign and shut it again.

“How do we stop it getting in?” Bill asked. “We're trapped in here!”

“Nothing gets through these doors,” he told her.

“But they're made of wood. They've got windows!” she exclaimed.

He smiled at her. Then he made his way down the ramp to the console. He pressed a few buttons before climbing the stairs to get his coat.

“Look, this is all mad, I know,” she said. She was still staring out the window. “But that's the girl I told you about. Heather.”

All the lights in the console room switched on. The Doctor tugged on his coat and moved to stand beside the console.

“Only I don't think it's really her,” she went on. “I know this is hard to believe. I know you're not exactly a sci-fi person . . .”

She broke off as she turned around, staring at the room in shock.

“Time And Relative Dimension In Space,” he announced, adjusting his coat sleeves. “TARDIS for short.” He moved around the console as Bill continued to stare. “You're safe in here. You're safe in here and you always will be.”

She stepped further into the room, staring around her and jumping as something made a noise behind her. There was something satisfying about seeing his daughter, who had grown up thinking a bigger-on-the-inside box was normal, in awe of the masterpiece that was the TARDIS.

“Any questions?”

“Is this a knock-through?” she exclaimed.

The Doctor laughed. “Well, in a way, yes.”

“Look at this place. It's like a . . .”

“Spaceship,” he interrupted.

“Kitchen!”

“A what?” He stared at her.

“A really posh kitchen,” she explained. “All metal. What happened with the doors, though? Did you run out of money?”

“What you are standing in is a technological marvel. It is science beyond magic. This is the gateway to everything that ever was, or ever can be,” he said. He knew he was being a little overdramatic, but he couldn’t help himself. And part of him was hoping to impress his daughter.

“Can I use the toilet?”

He turned to look at her. “Pardon?”

“I've had a fright. I need the toilet,” she admitted.

“It's down there, first right, second left, past the macaroon dispenser.”

“Thanks.”

She started towards the stairs but Nardole was coming up them.

“Oh, human!” he exclaimed. He turned to the Doctor. “Human alert. Do you want me to repel her?”

“She's just passing through. She wants to use the toilet,” he replied, hoping Nardole wouldn’t realize this “human” was Bill and start nagging him.

“Oh. I'd, er, give it a minute, if I were you.”

He turned back to the Doctor, a frown on his face.

_Here we go,_ he thought, bracing himself for Nardole’s rant.

But before Nardole could speak, there was a bang and the TARDIS shook.

“Oh! What was that?” he asked.

“We have an incursion on campus,” the Doctor explained, pulling the screen around to reveal a picture of Heather. “Extra-terrestrial. We're under attack.”

He began pressing buttons and pulled the main lever.

“Let's move.”

The Time Rotor began moving and the TARDIS began to dematerialize.

“Oh, my God! This isn't just a room, is it?” Bill exclaimed.

“No, it's not just a room,” the Doctor said.

“This is a lift!”

He glanced at her curiously, ready to ask what kind of a lift this resembled, but the TARDIS shuddered and he quickly pushed the lever back up. He started towards the doors.

“Well, come on, then,” Nardole said to Bill.

The Doctor stepped out of the room and crossed to the vault. He pressed a button and the lock beeped. “No interference here, as far as I can see. The vault's secure.”

He heard the TARDIS door creak shut.

“So your box can move?” Bill said. “It can go anywhere it likes?”

“Mmm,” Nardole said, putting on his glasses and pulling a panel off the lock to examine it. “Good, innit?”

“Anywhere at all, in the whole university?” she went on.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the vault door.

“Is it my imagination, or is this taking longer than normal?” he asked.

He heard Bill open the TARDIS again.

“Hang on,” she said. “The room's still inside the box. This isn't a knock-through.”

“No,” he replied, leaning towards the lock to examine it.

“Doctor! It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, hey! We got there!” Nardole laughed, offering a hand to the Doctor. He huffed good-naturedly and shook it.

_It’s probably the perception filter._

“How is that possible? How do you do that?” Bill asked.

Nardole moved over to where she was standing. “Well, first you have to imagine a very big box fitting inside a very small box,” he explained.

“Okay.”

“Then you have to make one. It's the second part people normally get stuck on.”

“Can we shut up, please? Busy, busy,” the Doctor called. “I need to know if there's any interest in what's inside this vault.”

“Why, what's inside it?” Bill asked.

“Something I don't want anyone being too curious about,” he said.

“So you put it in the middle of a university?”

“Oh, valid point,” Nardole agreed. “Yeah. Nice.”

“Either the creature came here specifically for what's in here, or it's just a coincidence.”

“It's just a coincidence,” Bill said, crossing her arms.

“Well, we can't know that for sure.”

“Yeah, we can.”

The Doctor looked at her curiously.

“It was here for ages before it did anything,” she pointed out. “If it had work to do, why would it lie around in a puddle?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's a student,” he shot back.

“Oh.” Nardole laughed. “Banter. It's good, this. Huh. Your go again.”

Suddenly, the sound of rushing water filled the room. They all looked up.

“Nardole,” the Doctor whispered. “We need to move away from the doors and towards the TARDIS.”

There was water pouring down the steps, forming a puddle at the bottom. Heather’s form rose out of it again.

“What if it attacks us?” Nardole asked.

“Well, that's good news,” the Doctor said. “It means it's not interested in what's inside the vault. It just wants to kill us.”

“Oh.” Nardole didn’t sound comforted.

Heather stared at them. The Doctor watched her carefully before shouting, “Run!”

Bill and Nardole darted towards the TARDIS. Heather let out an ear-piercing shriek. The Doctor followed after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this second part. Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback on the first chapter. It was really encouraging. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter as well.
> 
> I'm really enjoying writing this. There are so many lines and moments in the actual episode that make it so easy to pretend that Bill really is the Doctor's daughter. I've finished writing "The Pilot" (I've split it into four parts) and I haven't had to change any of the dialogue in it. I've added some before or after or between some scenes, but I haven't changed anything. I know I'll have to start changing dialogue eventually (especially once I get to "World Enough and Time" and "The Doctor Falls"), but I haven't had to yet.


	3. The Pilot Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, this was supposed to be updated the other day . . . but I was too lazy.

“It's not interested in the vault, it's chasing us,” the Doctor declared, leaping towards the console. He began pressing buttons. “Let's give it a proper challenge. Let's see how far she's prepared to go.”

He tugged the lever down and the Time Rotor began moving.

“But what about my friend?” Bill asked. He turned to look at her. “What about Heather? Can you save her?”

The TARDIS shuddered so he pushed the lever back up.

“First things first. Let's see if we can survive her.”

He hurried over to the door and pulled it open. Sunlight flooded the room and he left the TARDIS, moving to lean against the rail overlooking the bay. The soft sound of water lapping against the shore was mixed with the calls of seagulls and the soft chatter of the people around. He turned to watch Bill coming out of the TARDIS and looking around in shock.

“But--” she started, turning in a circle.

“Yes,” he grinned.

“We've moved again,” she said.

“We have.”

“It was night.”

“Yep.”

“Now it's . . . day,” she observed.

He nodded. “Definitely day.”

“Oh, my God! Have we travelled in time?” she asked moving towards him.

“No, of course not. We've travelled to Australia,” he declared. He stepped aside to let her see the Sydney Opera House on the other side of the harbour. He turned back to grin at his daughter but she was gone. He saw her vanishing into a nearby restaurant.

Hurrying after her, he entered the building just in time to see her shove open the door to the ladies’ restroom and dart inside. He followed after her, pushing the door open and sticking his head into the room. He found her bent over a sink, splashing water on her face.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

She spun around to look at him, breathing heavily. “How do you think?” she demanded. She turned and rested her palms against the wall.

He frowned. She was freaking out because he had been too focused on trying to impress her. It had been almost a hundred years since he had left her on Earth and now that he had to be less like a teacher and more like her father, he found he didn’t remember how. If she knew who he was, comforting her would be as easy as pulling her into a hug and whispering soothingly into her ear, but that wasn’t an option. He didn’t know what to do. As Bill crossed the room to lean against the wall by the door, he stepped into the room and moved towards the sinks.

“Right,” he said. “Um, how do I help?” He needed to know what kind of comfort, if any, she’d accept from him.

She turned. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“No,” he said automatically.

“Can I anyway?”

“Yes,” he replied, partly because he knew she would anyway and partly because he hadn’t meant to say no in the first place. It had been an automatic response. He was opposed to personal questions as a rule, but Bill was an exception.

“Are you from space?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” he said. She slipped her hands behind her neck and turned away. He went on. “Nobody's from space. I'm from a planet like everybody else.”

“This planet?” she demanded.

“No, not specifically this one,” he admitted. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he couldn’t lie to her.

“Doesn't make sense, then.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “What doesn't?”

“TARDIS. If you're from another planet, why would you name your box in English? Those initials wouldn't work in any other language!”

He frowned. “People don't generally bring that up.”

“It looks like a phone box.”

“Yes. Er, well, that's the cloaking device. It sort of hides itself,” he said proudly.

“It's hidden itself as a box with 'pull to enter' on the front?” she pointed out.

The Doctor nodded awkwardly. He was beginning to realize that Bill still had her mother’s knack for making him feel like an idiot. “Uh-huh. It's stuck. It's supposed to blend in, but it's-- it's broken.”

He moved towards her, smiling, and she let out a laugh. She stepped towards the sink before freezing. He looked up. Drops of water were forming on the mirror. She backed up quickly.

“Doctor . . .” Bill said.

A face was beginning to form, coming straight out of the mirror. Spinning around, the Doctor shoved the door open and ran into the restaurant.

“Out, out! Everybody out!” he yelled. “Shark attack!”

Suddenly, the door burst open again and Heather came out, her mouth open in a shrill scream. Everyone began running for the exits. The Doctor and Bill followed, making for the TARDIS. As soon as they were inside, he entered coordinates and pulled the lever. The ship began shaking as they took off.

“Where are we going?” Bill asked.

“As far as we can,” he told her. “She made Australia in a minute. Let's see what she can really do.”

“Sir, we're leaving Earth,” Nardole observed. “What about the vault?”

“Oh, we're fine,” he said, waving a hand in his direction. “If there's any trouble, I'll get a message on this.” He pulled his psychic paper out of his pocket and showed it to him with the message, _Leave me alone, and don’t say anything about Bill._

Nardole scowled just as the TARDIS shook once more.

“Let's see how long it takes her to get here,” the Doctor said. He pushed up the lever and the shaking stopped.

“Where are we?” Bill asked.

“Other end of the universe,” he replied. He moved around her. “Twenty-three million years in the future.” He grinned at her and made his way to the doors where he turned to find her still staring after him. “Oh, yes, it's a time machine too.”

She began to smile so he grinned again before opening the doors and stepping out of the TARDIS. They had landed on a desert-like planet. Huge rock formations surrounded them, forming arches at the top. All the rock glittered as the crystals in it caught the sun. The air also seemed to shimmer. Bill stepped out after him, looking around in awe. He watched her.

“So this is somewhere else? This is a different planet?” she asked. “Not Earth, a different one?”

He scratched his ear, trying not to grin at her so much. He was failing. “That's the general idea.”

“That's different sky? Is it made of something different?” She turned to him. “What is sky made of?”

The Doctor had turned to look up at the sky, trying to imagine what it must be like for her. “Lemon drops,” he joked.

“Really?” she laughed.

He turned back to her. “No, but wouldn't that be nice?” He made a mental note to go over the different atmospheres of the planets in the solar system with her.

“You can be very silly sometimes, you know that?” Nardole said.

The Doctor just grinned and shrugged. He was too happy about being on another, new planet again -- and with his daughter as well -- to be insulted.

“So, how do we know this water thing is actually dangerous?” Nardole asked.

“Ah, because most things are,” the Doctor pointed out.

“Mmm, that's true.”

“Why? Is everything out here evil?” Bill said.

“Hardly anything is evil, but most things are hungry,” he explained. “Hunger looks very like evil from the wrong end of the cutlery. Or do you think that your bacon sandwich loves you back?”

“So what is it, and what was it doing on Earth?” Nardole asked.

“Well, there were scorch marks on the concrete where we found it. Could have been left by a shuttlecraft,” the Doctor said. He inhaled sharply and rounded on his daughter. “The puddle, what did it look like? I mean, if that was a car, what would you say that was?”

“An oil leak?” she replied hesitantly. He nodded eagerly. “So it's space engine oil?”

“Intelligent oil. Super intelligent space oil. No, part of the ship itself. Shape-shifting fluid that becomes anything it needs to be.”

“Oh, seriously?” Bill said.

“But it spent ages laying around being a puddle. What changed?” the Doctor went on. “Your friend. She looked into it, didn't she? More than once.”

“So?”

“Maybe it saw something it needed. What was she like, your friend? What did she want? What did she need?”

Bill stared at him blankly and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

“I think she wanted to leave,” she said finally.

“You see?” he asked, pointing to Nardole.

“The puddle found a passenger,” he said.

“A left-behind droplet of a liquid spaceship,” the Doctor declared. “A single tear drop, alone in a strange world. Then, one day, it finds someone who wants to fly away. Not just a passenger, more than a passenger. It found a pilot, so it ate her.”

“So why is it chasing this one?” Nardole asked, pointing to Bill. She had moved off and was looking at something in the rocks.

“Everything wants, everything needs.”

“But why does it want her?”

“I don't know,” the Doctor admitted. “I don't know everything, Nardole. I don't have it all written down.”

“You act like you do.”

“I act like I do because I don't.”

“It must be looking for something,” Nardole pointed out.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Of course it is, everything is.”

“But what?”

“What, in the end, are any of us looking for? We're looking for someone who's looking for us.” The Doctor let his gaze drop to the dusty ground. He had always told the universe he wasn’t looking for anyone, that he just wanted to fly around and see _everything_ , but he had still found her. River had made his life complete, but he had always known he would lose her; had known how he would lose her. Now she was gone and the only thing left of their relationship were his two broken hearts and the daughter who didn’t remember them.

He turned to gaze at Bill, a distant look in his eyes. She was bent over, staring intently at something on the ground. Suddenly, Heather’s shriek filled the air and a hand shot up from what the Doctor now saw was a small pool of water. It grabbed Bill’s face, pulling her forward.

“Bill!” he shouted. He and Nardole ran towards her. “Bill!” They reached her and pulled her away. “Quick!”

Heather let go, still screaming.

“Back to the TARDIS!” the Doctor said. They turned and ran for the blue box as a geyser shot out of the puddle behind them. He turned to see it form the shape of a giant face.

“Okay, it's fast,” he declared, jumping down the steps to the console. “It time travels. It never gives up.”

He tugged the lever down again and the TARDIS took off, shooting back in time and travelling to a different planet.

“Plan! Basic sterilisation. We're going to run that thing through the deadliest fire in the universe.”

“Yes, that sounds excellent,” Nardole said. “‘The deadliest fire in the universe.’ That's definitely good.”

“How do we do that?” Bill asked.

“The only way we can. We run through it first.” He wasn’t particularly happy about his plan but it was the only thing he had.

“Less good now,” Nardole decided.

The TARDIS shook and the Doctor grabbed the railing so he could pull himself up the stairs.

Nardole must have looked at the scanner because he said, “No, not there. I don't like it there!”

The Doctor reached the top of the stairs and began rummaging through the things on a shelf. He tossed one book over his shoulder and shoved another onto the ground before finding what he wanted. He gasped, holding up an old sonic screwdriver.

“Nardole!” he called, holding it up.

“I don't like there,” the man protested.

Ignoring his complaints, he threw the screwdriver in his direction. He caught it and stared at it.

“I want you running interference,” he said, jumping down the stairs. “Can you do that?”

“Can I say no, sir?”

“No.”

“Yes, then.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, turning to run towards the doors.

“But no really,” Nardole added behind him.

“Where are we?” Bill asked. Her voice was shaking.

“Well, we're basically in the middle of a war,” he admitted. She backed up, obviously ready to protest. He stepped towards her again. “No, but . . . Well, it's a war zone, and this is just your basic skirmish. And it's not as bad as it sounds, I promise you. Come on, I've got friends here, old friends.”

He ran towards the door, ignoring Nardole’s whimpering. Slipping into the corridor outside the TARDIS, he muttered, “I say friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still loving this book, though I haven't done too much with "Smile" yet. I hopefully will soon. However, I'm with my family now so I'm trying to get my mom to watch Doctor Who with me. I decided to skip the first two Series though, just because there are other, later episodes that I want to get too.


	4. The Pilot Part 4

A robotic shout echoed through the corridors. “The Doctor is detected. Seek. Locate. Destroy.”

The Doctor ran through the wrecked halls, dodging explosions. Bill was following after him.

“Are we still in the future?” she asked.

“No. This is the past.”

“Doesn't-- Doesn't look like the past,” she pointed out. They rounded a corner. “Are we safe here?”

“Well, that's up to Nardole, so probably not,” he laughed, hoping to get her mind off the fact that they could die at any second.

They heard him call out, “Keep moving, Doctor!”

“Where are we going?” Bill asked.

“Into the fire. Come on.” He squeezed through a gap, looking back to make sure she was okay.

The shouts and screams of battle grew louder. One Movellan called to the others. “Move! Move! Move!”

“Who are those guys?”

“Never mind them,” the Doctor said. “It's who they're firing at.”

There was a huge explosion and several Movellans were thrown into the air, but the sound of water rushing behind them caused him and Bill to turn. Heather was standing in the middle of the corridor, staring them down.

“Come on,” the Doctor said, tugging Bill forward. They ran around a corner before skidding to a stop. There in front of them was what he had come for. A Dalek.

“What's that?” Bill hissed.

“The deadliest fire in the universe,” he said as it turned to look at them.

“Identify, intruder. Identify,” it demanded.

The Doctor ran forward and held up his screwdriver. “Scan this device and identify me!”

“You are the Doctor. You are an enemy of the Daleks!”

“Oh, yes, I am!”

“Exterminate!”

He grabbed Bill’s hand and dragged her out of the way as the Dalek fired. The shot flew past them, hitting Heather in the chest. The part of her around the impact dissolved into water which then rippled back into the shape of a woman.

“Exterminate,” she echoed.

“Exterminate!” The Dalek fired again.

“Exterminate,” she repeated, not flinching at all.

The Doctor pulled Bill along until they found an empty corridor. He looked along it.

“What was that thing?” Bill demanded.

“A Dalek,” he told her.

“A what?”

“A Dalek,” he repeated.

“What's a Dalek?”

He hesitated. He had already shown Bill far more than he should have, and this wasn’t really the best place for an explanation anyway. “Never mind. It's a Dalek.”

He caught her hand and pulled into the corridor. They ran along it.

A shout came from behind them. “Exterminate!”

They came to a halt as a blast shot between them, setting the area in front of them on fire. Bill’s hand slipped from his and they turned to look behind them. A Dalek sat in the middle of the corridor.

“Exterminate . . .” it repeated, but its voice was distorted. The Doctor frowned.

“That's wrong,” he observed. He began to creep forward. “I know my Daleks, and that's wrong.” He ran up to it, stopping a few feet away, and stared into the eyestalk. Instead of the blue light there was a blue eye with a gold, five-pointed star. “Oh, I see.”

“You see what?” Bill asked.

Nardole appeared at the end of the corridor. “I've sealed the area. All the Daleks are quarantined.” He turned and squeaked, “Except that one.”

“It's okay. This isn't a Dalek,” the Doctor called. He turned to his daughter, catching her arm to pull her closer. “Look. Look at the eye.”

“Heather,” she nodded.

Water began dripping from the eyestalk. Soon it was pouring out of the Dalek itself. The metal body dissolved into a puddle and a human figure rose out from it again.

“Heather,” she echoed.

“Interesting,” the Doctor said, moving around her to direct her attention away from his daughter. “You had a gun but you didn't use it. Why? You've already taken one person from the Earth. I'm going to let that pass, because I have to, but I will not let you take another. Go. Just go now. Fly away.”

Heather turned her head before turning around to look at Bill.

“Why won't you just go?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

Heather was still staring at Bill. A look of realization formed on her face.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “I understand.”

“You what?” Nardole said.

“The last thing she said to me. She promised she wouldn't leave without me,” Bill explained.

“Her last conscious thought, driving her across the universe,” the Doctor said. “Never underestimate a crush.”

“Oh, you don't have to tell me,” Nardole chuckled.

“What do we do?” Bill demanded.

“I don't know,” he admitted. “She's not chasing you, she's inviting you. Release her. Release her from her promise.” He stepped towards her. She looked up at him before turning to Heather.

“You have to let me go,” she said.

“You have to let me go,” Heather repeated.

“I will.”

“I will,” came the echo.

Bill took a step back and Heather mimicked her.

“I really liked you,” she admitted.

“I really liked you.”

Heather reached up and this time it was Bill’s turn to mimic.

“Bill,” the Doctor warned. “Bill, don't. Don't!” He wanted to run forward but was afraid of startling Heather.

“Don't do that,” Nardole said. “Listen, please, just listen to him.”

But her hand was still moving towards Heather’s.

“Bill, don't. Don't!” the Doctor called. “Bill, let go!”

Their hands met and Heather grabbed on. The Doctor took a step forward, moving to stand behind his daughter while still keeping a wary eye on Heather.

“Bill, listen to me,” he begged. “Whatever she's showing you, whatever she's letting you see. It's a lure, it's a trap. She's making you part of her, and you can never come back.” He knew he was being selfish, but he couldn’t lose her. Not now.

“I see what you see,” she murmured. “It's beautiful.”

“Bill, let go! You have to let go!” he called. “She is not human anymore.”

“Goodbye, Heather.”

“Goodbye, Bill.”

Bill let go, stumbling back into the Doctor’s arms. He caught her and pulled her close.

“Bill!” he said, turning her to look at her face. He needed to know she was okay. She turned to watch as Heather melted into a puddle, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. “You all right?”

She turned to look at him, not meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I think so.”

He could see she wasn’t okay. He knew her moods well and could always tell when something was wrong, but he didn’t know how to help. Back on Darillium, he had hugged her close, letting her cry into his shoulder and whispering comforting words until she could tell him what was wrong. That wasn’t an option anymore. He knew he needed to get out of there before he said something he shouldn’t so he turned and started in the direction of the TARDIS.

“You don't look all right,” Nardole said.

“She's fine,” the Doctor called, annoyed that Nardole would probably do a better job comforting her than he, her father, did. He turned and continued down the corridor.

They reached the TARDIS and took off. They stopped by Bill’s house so she could change. Then he dropped her off in his office while he went to check on the vault. Once he was satisfied everything was okay he quickly changed his clothes before stepping out of the TARDIS to join his daughter. She was curled up in her usual chair by the desk.

“The vault alarm went off, but it was nothing,” he informed her. “A student was sick outside and it registered as a biological attack.” He laughed as he took his seat, but he didn’t get the smile he was hoping for.

“I saw it all for a moment,” Bill said. “Everything out there. She was going to let me fly with her. She was inviting me.” She sighed. “I was too scared.”

“Scared is good,” he replied. “Scared is rational. She wasn't human anymore.”

“Will we see her again?”

He made a face. “I don't see how.”

Bill turned to look up at the TARDIS.

“No, no, no, no,” he said quickly. “No, no. You have to forget about that.”

“I don't see how I can,” she said with a dry laugh.

“I do,” he said. It pained him to do what he was about to do, but he knew it needed to be done. He got to his feet and moved to the side of the desk. “Come here, Bill.”

She stood up and moved to join him. “What's up?”

“I just want to fix something,” he said, raising his hands to touch her temples.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed, stepping back. “What are you doing?”

“Don't worry. This won't hurt at all,” he assured her.

“No, but tell me,” she demanded.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“Yeah, because I think you're going to wipe my memory,” she said. He straightened up and looked at her. “I'm not stupid, you know. That's the trouble with you. You don't think anyone's ever seen a movie. I know what a mind-wipe looks like!”

“I have no choice. I'm here for a reason,” he insisted. “I am in disguise. I have promises to keep.”

_Like the one I made your mother; that I’d keep you safe._

“No one can know about me,” he went on.

_Especially not you._

“This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me in my life,” Bill cried. “The only exciting thing!”

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“Okay, let me remember just for a week. Just a week.” She shrugged. “Okay, well, just for tonight. Just one night. Come on, let me have some good dreams for once,” she begged.

He hesitated. The look on her face was breaking his hearts.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Do what you've got to do.”

She closed her eyes and he slowly raised his hands again. Her eyes opened.

“But imagine . . . Just imagine how it would feel if someone did this to you.”

She stared at him for a moment before closing her eyes again. He started to raise his hands but a faint image appeared in his mind. Brown hair, big, brown eyes, but not much else. His mind settled on the many gaps in his memory; gaps he had learned to ignore, but that stretched back for hundreds of years of his life. He lowered his hands and stared at his daughter. Then he gently tapped her on the chin with his fist.

“Get out,” he said, his voice choked.

“What?” she breathed.

“You can keep your memories. Now get out before I change my mind!”

She opened her mouth to say something.

“Don't speak, don't start, just run! Now. Go!”

He motioned for her to go and she did, grabbing her jacket and shutting the door behind her. He let out a sigh, trying not to let his tears form. His gaze fell on the picture of his granddaughter.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “You shut up as well,” he added to the picture of his wife.

The TARDIS hummed and he groaned.

“Will you all please just leave me alone? I can't do that anymore. I promised!”

He snatched the picture of River off the desk and pushed open the blue door. Then he sent the TARDIS into the Time Vortex, not caring that Nardole would give him hell if he ever found out. He needed time to think.

Dropping into a chair, he stared at the picture of his wife.

“What do I do, River?” he murmured. “I can’t keep flying around the universe, I’ve got a vault to guard. And I certainly can’t take Bill with me.”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I promised you I’d keep her safe, and right now the only way to do that is for her to remain here on Earth as a human. I can’t risk her remembering who she is.”

The TARDIS hummed, so he looked up at the Time Rotor.

“And what if I do take her places? There always ends up being some kind of trouble. What if something happens to her? What if she gets hurt?” he demanded. “What if she dies?

“Besides, I’ve got a vault to guard. I promised I’d guard it for a thousand years. What am I supposed to do if I get killed or I get stuck somewhere and can’t get back? Who knows what she might do. Nardole certainly wouldn’t be able to stop her.”

He sighed, his eyes falling on the photograph again. “But it would make her happy, River. Seeing the universe would make Bill so happy, and I think she needs a little bit of happiness in her life.”

The picture of his wife just smiled back at him.

Getting to his feet, he made his way to the room he had been avoiding for nearly a hundred years. Bill’s things were still all as she had left them. He picked up a small picture frame containing a photo of their family. Bill had been six when it was taken and they all looked so happy.

Her bed was positioned in a corner. It was neatly made with hardly a wrinkle in the blue fabric. The Doctor sat down on it, before lying back to look at the ceiling. It was painted black, but he knew that there were hundreds of little dots painted in a clear paint that glowed when the lights were out, making the ceiling look like a starry sky.

He lay motionless on the bed for several hours, wrestling with what he knew was an impossible choice. He knew the correct answer would be to wipe Bill’s memory of the TARDIS and their little adventure. Then she would be safe and their life would continue on as it had. He would still be teaching her and she would still be learning eagerly.

But it was impossible. He doubted he’d be able to do it. He knew what it felt like to be missing memories. Even now, over a hundred years later, there were days when the holes left by Clara made it difficult to focus on what he was doing. He couldn’t do that to his daughter, even if she would have no idea that anything was missing.

A few minutes after he finally dragged himself out of the bed, he had returned River’s picture frame to its usual spot on his desk and landed the TARDIS on the lawn. He stepped out of the door just in time to see Bill coming out of the building.

“It's a big universe,” he called. “But maybe one day we'll find her.”

She came towards him. “What changed your mind?”

He frowned thoughtfully, remembering the hours he had just wasted in trying to make a decision.

“Time,” he said simply.

“Time?” she repeated.

“And Relative Dimension In Space.”

He raised a hand and snapped. The TARDIS doors swung open and a blue light washed over them. Bill watched him as he turned and stepped into the ship.

“It means . . .” he said, leaning towards her. “What the hell?”

She smiled slowly before starting forward. He grinned as she joined him and shut the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part of "The Pilot"! I'm still loving this book. If you liked it, please think about leaving a comment saying what you like about it. Comments are really great.
> 
> The next chapter is going to be slightly different.
> 
> I'm still trying to decide what I'm going to do with the last few episodes. Well, mainly with "Twice Upon a Time". I think I know how this book is going to end so I may just have to ignore "Twice Upon a Time" completely and rewrite it with something possibly better. *wink*


	5. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit different and a lot shorter.

_The Doctor made his way through the house, searching for his wife. They had gotten back from work nearly an hour ago, and she had vanished instantly. He hadn't seen her since._

She did seem rather agitated, _he remembered. He frowned._ Where would she go?

_As soon as he thought it, he knew where she was. Turning, he quickly made his way to the one room he hadn't bothered checking. It was empty except for the TARDIS. Running a hand through his hair, he pushed the blue door open and stepped into the ship. He had expected he would need to go on a long search through the maze of corridors and rooms before he found her. What he hadn't expected was to find her sitting on the steps on the opposite side of the console room. Her elbows were resting on her knees, her hands supporting either side of her head and her fingers tangled in her hair, gripping fistfuls of her curls. Her gaze was fixed on the empty space, and she didn't look up when he entered._

_“River?” he called softly._

_She didn't respond; didn't even blink. He moved over to her._

_“Sweetie,” he said, taking a seat beside her, though on a lower step. “Is everything okay?”_

_She still didn't move, but he noticed a small shift in her eyes. He followed her gaze. She was staring at the control panel. His eyes travelled up to the monitors. They were off to one side and there was enough space between them to make him suspect the closer one had been shoved aside and had crashed into the second._

_Casting a curious glance at his wife, he got to his feet and crossed to the console. He grabbed the handle of the closer monitor and pulled it towards him. Then he turned to look at River again. She still hasn't moved, so he took a look at the monitor._

_His jaw dropped._

_He stared at the screen in shock, trying to work up the mental capacity to move. What was written there would change their lives. No matter what happened next, their lives wouldn't be the same._

_Once he had managed to compose himself, he moved to sit by his wife again. Resting his arms against his knees, he linked his fingers together and stared at the console as well._

_“I see,” he said slowly._

_It was several minutes before she responded. He waited patiently, aware that this must be difficult for her. Eventually, her grip on her curls loosened. She lowered her hands slowly, careful not to pull her hair since some of the stands were sticking to her fingers. Letting out a sigh, she ran her hands over her face before clasping them in her lap._

_“We've never discussed this,” she said. Her voice was low and strained._

_“I know.”_

_Her gaze dropped to her hands. She was nervously twisting her wedding ring around her finger._

_“To be honest, I never really thought about it,” he admitted. “Have you?”_

_She let out a shaky breath before nodding once. “Several times.”_

_“Why didn't you ever bring it up?”_

_“You would have panicked. Besides, our lives would have made it nearly impossible.”_

_“I assume you're talking about Bowtie?”_

_She nodded again. “I haven't really thought about it since we started living here. I've been too distracted by the fact we're actually living here together.”_

_He hummed in understanding. Then they were silent for a few minutes. River was the first to speak._

_“So . . . What do we do?”_

_He turned to look at her. She was still staring at her hands. “What do you mean?”_

_“Do--” She hesitated before trying again. “I-- I know how I feel about this. I need to know how you feel.”_

_“I've been a father before,” he reminded her._

_“I know. That's why I'm not sure how you'll take this.”_

_Letting out a sigh, the Doctor reached for her hand. She gripped his tightly, running her thumb over the stone in his ring._

_“Do you want children?” he asked._

_There was a moment before she nodded. “I've always wanted children,” she admitted. “At least, since I married you.”_

_“Then why did I find you sitting here staring a hole into the console?”_

_She finally turned to look in his direction, though she didn't meet his eye. Instead, she watched as his thumb smoothed over her knuckles._

_“Because I was afraid of how you'd react. I expected some shouting would be involved.”_

_“River,” he sighed. “I couldn't be upset about this if I wanted to. Besides, it certainly wasn't your fault.”_

_That earned him a small smile, but it was gone a moment later._

_“They'll be mostly Time Lord, won't they? That means they'll age more slowly. We've already been here almost four years. This child will only be twenty by the time we have to leave. What will happen to them then?” she fretted._

_“I don't know,” he replied softly. “But we'll worry about that when the time comes.”_

_He brought her hand up to his lips to press kisses to her skin._

_“We can't keep thinking about the end,” he reminded her. “Otherwise we won't be able to enjoy the time we have.”_

_River finally looked up at him. He could see the uncertain joy and excitement in her eyes._

_“When did you become so wise?” she teased, a faint smile ghosting over her lips._

_He moved closer. “Well, I have had two thousand years to work on it,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss to her lips._

_She sighed into his mouth. His hand found the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. Her lips parted against his so he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss._

_A moment later, River pulled away and let out a breathless laugh. Her eyes were sparkling._

_“We're having a child!” she laughed._

_He chuckled. “Yes, we are.” He tugged her closer to him. “I love you.”_

_She kissed him again, humming against his lips. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, but he caught her wrists, pulling away to kiss her knuckles._

_“No, not here.”_

_“Why not?” she asked, leaning forward to kiss him again. She smirked against his lips. “You've never had a problem with it before.”_

_“Because I want to celebrate this with you properly,” he replied. “Somewhere comfortable.”_

_He got to his feet, pulling her up along with him. Then he scooped her up and carried her out of the TARDIS. She laughed as he nudged their bedroom door open with a foot before kicking it shut behind them. He crossed to the bed and set her down more gently than he normally did. He crawled onto it after her. Nudging up her shirt, he pressed a gentle kiss to her stomach._

_“I love you,” she breathed as his lips found hers again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to add some flashbacks to Darillium between the episodes. I don't know when I'll be posting the next chapter because I haven't been working on "Smile" much. I've been binge-watching Classic Who so it's hard to stop doing that so I can watch "Smile" over and over again.
> 
> Anyway, if you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! Comments really make my day!
> 
> Have a good day (or night)!


	6. Smile Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finally sat herself down to write this book again!

“So?” Bill asked. They were standing in the TARDIS and the Doctor was having a hard time trying not to grin at her like an idiot.

“So . . .”

“What do we do? Do I have to sit somewhere? Are there seat belts? Like . . .” She was grinning up at him, an excited light in her eyes.

“Well, you've done this before. This isn't your first trip,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but-- Well, it's proper this time.” She moved to a chair and dropped into it. “Oh, that's a mistake,” she said, frowning at the console.

“What is?” he asked.

“You can't reach the controls from the seats. What's the point in that?”

He sat down in another chair and looked at the console.

“Or do you have stretchy arms, like Mister Fantastic?” Bill asked, getting up again.

“Oh, I stand,” he explained, moving to rest his hands on some of the controls. “Like this.”

“You never thought of bringing the seats a bit closer?”

He turned to look at them. “No, not so far, no.”

“Where's the steering wheel?” She moved around to look at the different panels of the console.

“Well, you don't steer the TARDIS, you negotiate with it,” he explained. He moved to stand by her. “The still point between where you want to go and where you need to be, that's where she takes you.”

“How much did it cost?”

“Ah. No idea. I stole it,” he admitted.

Bill turned to look give him an impressed look. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Why?” she laughed.

“Well, actually, because I felt like it,” he replied.

“What if I steal it from you?”

“On you go, then,” he challenged.

She laughed. “Well, I don't know how it works.”

“Well, neither did I,” he said. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Bill had known how to fly the TARDIS. In fact, she could fly it better than he could. River had insisted on being the one to teach her and she had proved to be a natural.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a knocking on the door.

“Who's that?” Bill asked.

The knocking continued, so the Doctor turned around and started for the doors. His gaze darkened.

“Mum,” he muttered.

Nardole knocked again so he pulled the door open to let him in. He cleared his throat and quickly started towards the console.

“Excuse me,” Nardole said. “Just what is the TARDIS doing down here?”

“I'm over two thousand years old, I don't always want to take the stairs,” the Doctor replied.

“Your oath, sir,” Nardole reminded him. “You're not supposed to go off-world unless it's an emergency.”

“I'm not off-world.”

“Are you going off-world?” he demanded.

“I'm going back to my office,” he said cooly. It wasn’t exactly a lie. “Could you put the kettle on, please?”

“Hmm.”

He knew Nardole wasn’t convinced. He spotted Bill.

“Why's she here?”

“Because she isn't anywhere else,” he replied. “Kettle.”

Nardole turned and started back towards the door. He was grumbling to himself, and the Doctor suspected it had something to do with Bill. Shutting the door behind Nardole, he checked to make sure he was leaving.

_Am I really doing this?_ he wondered. _Am I going to risk something happening to Bill?_

“So,” she said, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at her. “Back up to your office for a cuppa, then?”

She looked disappointed, and he knew he wasn’t going to be the one to let her down. He started toward her.

“Between here and my office, before the kettle boils, is everything that ever happened or ever will,” he said. “Make your choice.”

“What choice?” she asked as he moved around her to the main controls.

“Past or future.”

She grinned and thought for a moment before declaring, “Future.”

He pressed a button and rested his hand on the lever. “Why?”

“Why do you think? I want to see if it's happy,” she grinned.

He smiled back at her and tugged the lever down. The Time Rotor began moving up and down and the TARDIS began shaking. He ran around the console, pushing buttons and flipping switches. When they reached their destination, he pulled the lever down again and moved towards the doors. He looked up at Bill.

“Coming?”

She offered him a nervous grin before starting forward. He pushed the door open and let her step outside. He followed her, shutting the TARDIS door behind them as he watched her reaction. She stared at the gleaming city ahead of them before slowly spinning to take in the golden wheat fields.

“Which way is Earth?” she asked as they started walking along the path in the wheat.

“Ah, space is bent. Earth is any way you choose to look,” he explained. He turned to look at her. “Why, you thinking about leaving?”

“Thinking? I'm not thinking. My brain's overloading,” she laughed. She glanced back at the TARDIS. “Why a phone box?”

“I told you,” he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets and starting towards the city.

“Yeah, well, I get that it's a cloaking device, but why keep it that shape? Why do you like it?”

“Who said I like it?” he demanded.

“You kept it,” she pointed out.

“Come along,” he called.

The walked through the field until they reached the city. The Doctor quickly found the entrance and led Bill into a long white corridor. The walls were sloped, meeting in a point at the top and giving it a triangular shape.

“This is one of the Earth's first colonies,” he explained. “They say the settlers have cracked the secret of human happiness.”

He turned to see Bill taking a picture of the building with her phone. They continued walking along the hall.

“One question,” she called. He stopped to look at her. “Little fella said you made an oath? You're not supposed to leave the planet.”

She was standing with her hands on her hips, looking rather smug.

“Okay,” he sighed, moving to stand in front of her. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.” He cleared his throat. “A long time ago, a thing happened. As a result of the thing, I made a promise. As a result of the promise, I have to stay on Earth.” He turned and began to walk away, but Bill wasn’t done.

“Guarding a vault.”

“Guarding a vault,” he confirmed, though he didn’t turn around.

“Well, you're not guarding a vault right now.”

“Yes, I am,” he said, stopping to look at her. “I have a time machine. I can be back before we left.”

“But what if you get lost, or stuck, or something?” she pointed out.

“I've thought about that.”

“And?”

“Well, it would be a worry, so best not to dwell on it. Look at this building. Look at it,” he said quickly, trying to change the subject. “You know what I like about humanity? Its optimism. Do you know what this building is made of? Pure, soaring optimism.”

They had stepped into a section of the building that was open to the air. A cloud of Vardies was soaring through the air.

“What are they? Alien birds?”

“Vardies,” he explained. “Tiny robots. Work in flocks. They're versatile, hard-working. Good at learning skills. The worker bees of the Third Industrial Revolution, probably just checking us out for security.”

“These are robots? These are disappointing robots.”

The Doctor stopped and turned to frown at his daughter. “That's a very offensive remark. Don't make personal remarks like that.”

“Er, you can't offend a machine,” she said as he started walking again.

“Typical wet brain chauvinism,” he scoffed.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his ear and Bill let out a gasp.

“Oh, what just happened?” she exclaimed, raising a hand to her ear. He leaned towards her to get a better look. It was glowing red.

“Your ear's on fire,” he observed.

“Argh, your voice just came out in my ear,” she protested. He raised a hand to his own ear, listening carefully. “I mean, I know voices go into ears but this was like . . .”

“We have been fitted with some kind of communication device that is using our own nervous system as hardware,” he explained. “We've just downloaded an upgrade for our ears.”

“I'll never lose my phone again,” Bill gasped. “I'll never run out of battery again!”

“Welcome to paradise,” he said. He was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. The whole place was too quiet. He still hadn’t seen any signs of life and when he had tested the communicator, he hadn’t picked up anything.

“Hang on, is there a mute button though? What if you're in the loo?”

“Who needs loos? There's probably an app for that.”

“So, where is everyone?” Bill asked. “Don't tell me we've come halfway across the universe and they've all gone out. We should've texted first or something.”

There was a loud whirring sound and the triangular door in front of them swung open to reveal a squat little machine shaped vaguely like a person.

“What's that? That is a robot,” she declared. “That is not a disappointing robot.”

The Doctor frowned at her before turning to look at the little machine. The round display was shaped somewhat like a face with a big smiling mouth and two smiley faces for eyes. They stepped up to it.

“Technically, this isn't a robot at all,” he explained as the door began to close behind them. “The tiny little things, those are the robots, this is the interface with them.”

“Does it speak?” she asked. “Will we understand it?”

He turned back to it. Its eyes had changed into question marks. Bill waved at it.

“Well, depends upon what aspect of your language have survived over so many thousands of years,” he said, leaning forward to get a good look at it.

The face changed back to the big grin it had before.

“Emoji,” Bill gasped. “It speaks emoji!”

“Of course it does,” he said. He was unimpressed but hardly surprised. _Humans_.

The eyes turned into thumbs-ups.

“Aw. It's cute,” Bill cooed. She gave it a thumbs-up in return.

The interface held up its hands, turning them over to offer them each a blank yellow circle.

“What's that?” she asked.

“Blank badges.”

They took them, the Doctor eyeing his thoughtfully.

“Oh, yours isn't blank,” Bill said. “It's got a face on the back.”

“Yours too,” he replied, seeing the confused face on the back of her badge.

He turned his over, but it was still blank. Then he turned it back. “Interesting.”

“It's never on the side that you're looking at,” Bill observed. She was busy flipping it over in her hands.

“What's it doing now?” he asked her, turning it over a few times before holding it up for her to see. “What, what face is it making?”

“Mmm, sort of puzzled. Me?”

“Same.” He turned it over a few more times. “Do you know what I think? I think that this is some kind of mood indicator.”

“But you're never allowed to see your own mood?”

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?” she asked.

“Well, seeing your own mood might affect your own mood,” he explained. “It's like a feedback loop, interfering with the information being collected. Like a scale weighing itself.”

“So who's collecting the data?”

“It’s the big question.”

“So what do we do then?”

“Well, if they're badges then . . .”

He reached up to put it on his jacket lapel, but it slipped out from under his fingers and vanished over his shoulder. He looked around in confusion.

“What? Where's-- Where's it gone?”

“Oh, it's on your back,” Bill said, pointing to it. She tried to put hers on her shirt but it also vanished. She turned so he could see it sitting in the middle of her back.

“Oh, yours too.”

“So, everyone you walk past can see what you're thinking,” she observed. “What if you really fancy someone?”

“Well, I suppose it means that you have to maintain eye contact with them,” he replied.

“Oh, that's brilliant,” she exclaimed softly.

The interface turned and began walking away.

“Welcome to the future.”

The Doctor watched the interface leave. He looked up at his daughter and raised his eyebrows. They began following it.

“Emojis. Wearable communications. We're in the utopia of vacuous teens.”

They followed the interface to a large white room with a small table in the centre. Another interface was setting two plates on the surface, one with a single blue cube in the middle and the other with two.

“Look at this. It knew I was starving!” Bill exclaimed. “Food from another planet.” She dropped into the seat. “What? You've got to, haven't you?” She settled more comfortably in her chair and leaned forward to smell the cube. She looked up with a frown. “Smells like fish.”

The Doctor looked around. “I'm not that fond of fish. Except socially, which can complicate a meal like this.”

His daughter had picked up her cutlery and was about to cut into the cube when she hesitated. “Should we eat it, though?” He glanced at her. “I mean, what if they're not like us?”

He glanced down at the table. “Well, the cutlery's human cutlery. No other species in the universe uses emojis. Everything here is human.” He began to move towards the windows. “Except . . .”

“No humans,” she finished.

He continued walking backwards towards the windows. “This is a perfect colony for humans. So, where are all the colonists?” He turned to look out the window. There was a cloud of Vardies swarming outside. “That's some sort of flavoured algae. I haven't seen any livestock yet.”

“That's good, isn't it?” Bill said. He turned to look at her. “In the future, we don't eat living things, we eat algae.”

“I met an emperor made of algae once,” he said thoughtfully. He saw Bill looking up at him sceptically. “He fancied me.”

She set her cutlery down to hold her hands up in confusion.

“Why aren't you loving this?” she demanded.

“Everything is here. Everything is ready, but there's no one here.”

“It's like the Student Union first thing, before the actual students arrive. Two portions, though.”

“Well, that's because that one is mine,” he explained. Then he realized what she had said and began running towards the table. “That's it,” he said, pointing at her. She looked confused. “That's it! Of course! The whole place is waiting. We're just too early.”

“So, they're all still in bed?” She pointed to his plate. “Two portions. One portion. Is there going to be food sexism even in the future? Is this bloke utopia?”

“It's probably reading me as two people. The heartbeats.” He pointed to either side of his chest. “If you're going to travel twenty light-years, you're going to want to make sure you've got somewhere to sleep at the end of it, aren't you? So, what do you do?”

“Sorry? Wh-- Two hearts?”

He wasn’t listening. He continued pacing, gesturing dramatically as he explained. “You send a rocket load of intelligent robots up ahead of you. They build you a place to live, so that, when you arrive, it's all waiting. This is brilliant!”

“Y-y-you've got two hearts?” Bill stammered.

“Robots, they don't breathe,” he went on. “They can fix the atmosphere for you, send data back, so you know whether to bring your waterproofs or not. Working huge robot flocks. You just send them up ahead and you leave them to it.”

“Yeah. Hearts, though,” she insisted. “Why two?”

“Well, why one?” he shrugged and started back towards her. _You’d have two if you hadn’t had to turn yourself into a human._

“Does that mean you've got really high blood pressure?”

“Really high,” he nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luckily for me, Series 10 is my absolute favourite series of Doctor Who, otherwise, this book would be a pain to write. Hopefully, it won't be so long for the next chapter to be done. I'm gonna be working on it now, so I should be able to get the whole episode done pretty quickly. Also, since "Thin Ice" is one of my favourites, it should (hopefully) be easy to get that one done.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please consider leaving a comment to let me know what you think.


	7. Smile Part 2

Bill insisted on finishing their food, pointing out that it would be rude not to, so the Doctor sat down and studied the blue cubes on the plate in front of him. Then he picked up his fork and began to eat as his daughter continued talking excitedly about everything she'd seen. He couldn't stop the fond smile that appeared on his face as he listened to her.

When they were finished eating, they left the room to continue exploring the building. They came across a long room with a high, arching, glass roof. A variety of plants grew along the white walkways. There was a mix of short bushes and tall palm trees.

The Doctor spotted something in the dirt so he started towards it casually, watching to make sure Bill didn't notice.

"So, if the people aren't here yet, what do we do?" she asked as he crouched down to pick up what he had seen. "Put the kettle on? Or are we going to leave before they arrive?"

He examined the thing in his hand. It was a little blue circle on a gold chain. He opened the locket to see a hologram of a young boy waving.

_Why was this left here?_ he wondered with a frown. He turned back to Bill.

"Is that what you're worried about?" she asked, still unaware of his discovery. He glanced around at the trees and offered her a smile. "I can see you're worried."

"Well, you never know what's round the next corner," he said. He was holding the locket behind him. He managed to slip it into his pocket without her noticing as they rounded the corner and found themselves in a slightly smaller greenhouse with plants growing in little dirt beds.

"Ah, of course, wheat fields outside, now something else to eat when they get here," he declared. They started down the path and one of the spouts on the ceiling began spraying fertiliser on the plants. "This is their crops. Look, they're going to have orchards, olive groves. This is their nursery. Look, the little robots are doing pollination work."

He trailed off. Something about the room was making him uneasy. It looked like a perfectly innocent garden, but something was wrong. _Where did the robots get this much calcium-based fertiliser?_

"Oh, this plant!" Bill exclaimed. She hadn't noticed that he was looking around suspiciously. "There's one of these growing outside the Student Union. It smells amazing."

He turned and walked towards her. "Rosemary."

"I'm smelling home . . . twenty light-years from home." She grinned and let out a small laugh. "Thanks for bringing me. This is a great day out. I mean, come on, admit it. You love it."

"Did I say I didn't love it? Yes, I do. It's very lovable," he lied. He turned and started walking away again. "You asked me where all the people were, and I theorised that they hadn't got here yet. Did I sound convincing?"

"Yeah."

"And did I convince myself?" He moved back to her and pointed to the badge on his back.

"No," she admitted.

"No, no. And I'll tell you why. Because there should be somebody here," he informed her. "There should be some kind of set-up team, a skeleton crew. . . ."

_Skeleton crew? Or is it a_ skeleton _crew? Maybe it's like the magic haddock. The people would need fertiliser to grow the plants. Maybe the robots had their own ways of getting it._

He started towards the large hopper at the edge of the room.

"You're thinking," Bill declared. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

"A magic haddock."

"Obviously." He could hear the sarcasm in her voice. He glared at the hopper before turning back to examine the fertiliser. Bill had caught some in her hand.

"What is this stuff? Is it snow?" she asked.

He put his hand under the stream and examined the fine powder. His fears only grew as his suspicions about the origin of the fertiliser were all but confirmed.

"This is fertiliser. Mineral fertiliser," he explained. "Calcium-based. Now, we don't have answers, so let's put together two questions. What is the source of this mineral fertiliser?" He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, turned and sonicked the hopper. It opened slowly. "And where are all the people?"

Bill leaned forward to get a look at what was inside. A large grinder was busy crushing the last few pieces of bone. He pointed his screwdriver at the smaller hatch below it. It opened and several skulls tumbled out.

"Urgh!" Bill exclaimed before letting out a gasp and covering her mouth.

"Here, right here. In this garden," he said, his voice shaking.

"Oh, my God."

The Doctor picked up one of the skulls. He wrapped his fingers around the smooth bone and closed his eyes, trying to read the psychic imprint. He caught a brief glimpse of two women being attacked by a swarm of Vardies, one turning to a pile of bones in the hall, the second in the garden. Then an image of the locket falling to the ground.

"Despite appearances, they haven't been dead very long."

"What? Those are the colonists?" Bill gasped.

"The colonists aren't here yet," he explained. "This is the set-up team, the skeleton crew."

"Why did the robots feed them to the garden?"

He caught a glimpse of the emoji on her back. It was frightened.

"I don't know. Maybe they ran out of fertiliser. Let's not ask them."

They turned and started running towards the exit, stopping abruptly when they nearly ran into an interface. Its face was sad with a single tear on one side.

"Hello!" the Doctor said.

Bill stammered wordlessly and waved so he went on. "We were just admiring your garden."

"Yes!"

"Moving on now because there's nothing of particular interest here. Cheerio!"

They ran out of the room and down the halls. He glanced back to see if the interface was following them. It was, but it wasn't running. They came to a flight of stairs and started down them.

"If he's chasing us, he's moving very slowly," Bill observed.

"Do you know what it means when something chases you very slowly?"

"What?"

"It means there's a reason that they don't have to run."

They ran into the building and along a corridor, turning left in the hopes of losing the interface. However, two appeared ahead of them. The Doctor glanced down the halls either side of them. There were two on each side and two in the direction they had come, effectively trapping them on all sides.

"Okay, they're slow, but the city is full of them, so they catch you in the end."

"What do we do?"

"Question. We've been here for ages. Why are they attacking us now?"

"Does it matter?"

"Only if we want to live."

_What's changed?_ he wondered. _We've hardly seen them. We can't have done something to upset them. What interactions did we have with them? We followed one. One gave us food. One gave us . . . the badges!_

He moved to look at the yellow badge on the back of his daughter's shirt. It was still upset. _They started attacking us after we found the remains of the set-up team. Once we got upset._

"Smile for me!" he demanded.

"Smile?"

He moved to stand in front of her. "Use your whole face, right now, do it," he said before moving back to watch the badge.

"Er, what good's smiling?" she asked, but she must have done what he said because her emoji changed to a wide grin.

"Smiles aren't just smiles. Psychologically, they have a measurable effect on your mood states," he explained. The smile on her badge had confirmed his theory. "Yes!" He moved to stand in front of his daughter so he could explain to her what was happening. "These robots, they built this place, they grew those trees. Something went wrong, but they were designed to make you happy."

"How would massacring hundreds of people make me happy?" she asked, her expression morphing into one of horror.

"'How would massacring hundreds of people make me happy?' Smiley face," he reminded.

"Smiley face," she sighed, plastering a large grin on her face.

"Magic haddock," he said by way of an explanation.

"What magic haddock? What's that all about?" Bill demanded.

"The robots want you to be happy but they got the wrong end of the stick. I think we should give them what they want."

The Doctor let out a sigh and turned to face the interfaces, forcing a large smile. When he had first regenerated into this body, he had almost never smiled. It had been difficult, even when he had been happy. But over time, it had gotten easier, especially after being reunited with his wife and even more so once their daughter had come along. However, he hadn't ever had to force a smile before and he was finding it nearly impossible. He started forward, waving at the interfaces.

"Don't even try without smiling," he reminded his daughter. "What a lovely place you have here! Thank you so much for your hospitality."

"We will come again," she added, chuckling nervously. The interfaces raised their hands. Their sad faces had two tears. "Doctor, I-- I was thinking maybe next time we might go to Wiltshire, perhaps. Or-- or Aberdeen."

"Ah, yes. Two thumbs up for Wiltshire slash Aberdeen."

They eased around the interfaces and started running down the halls. They quickly came out into the open air again. They ran across the bridge, making their way towards the exit. Hearing something behind him, he turned to see Bill being held by an interface with a face with skulls for eyes and scary, skull-like teeth.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed.

"Smile!" he reminded her, running back to help. "Smile!"

He sonicked it and it let go of her. Then he grabbed her hand and they started running again. They came to the large open area with pools of water on either side. The exit was right ahead of them, but there was also a swarm of Vardies in the air.

"Where did they come from?" Bill demanded.

He didn't know the answer so he decided to ignore the question. "Once we're out of the city, we should be safe."

They made it out of the city and ran across the field to the TARDIS.

"Are they coming after us?" Bill called over her shoulder.

"I'm guessing that once we're out, we're not their problem."

They reached the TARDIS and Bill stepped inside. The Doctor stopped beside it.

"Right. You'll be perfectly safe in the TARDIS. She'll look after you until I get back."

He started to run back towards the city but she called after him.

"Where are you going?"

He turned and ran back to her as she stepped out and swung the door shut.

"There's a giant smiley abattoir over there and I'm having this really childish impulse to blow it up! Be right back." He turned and ran off again.

"What, you're going back in? We've only just escaped! I thought we were going home."

"Home?" he exclaimed, running back to her once more. "Why would we be going home? That place is a living death trap. We can't just leave it with its mouth wide open."

"But they're all dead. We saw them. It's too late."

"We have to assume that there is a colony ship on the way. What do you think's going to happen when all those people arrive? They're expecting the new garden of Eden. What they are not expecting is to be the fertiliser." He scowled at his daughter. "There's broadband in there. G-go and watch some movies or something!" He started running back to the city, this time only turning to glance at Bill as she called after him.

"I get that someone has to do something but why is it you? Can't you phone the police? Isn't there a helpline or something?"

"And stay away from my browser history!" he called over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I could have had this done yesterday, but I decided to spend my evening colouring strips of paper and gluing them together to look like the Fourth Doctor's scarf since I still don't have the correct size knitting needles to actually make it. I do have the yarn though.
> 
> Anyway, I've finished all of "Smile". Hopefully, I'll start writing "Thin Ice" soon since it's one of my favourites.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> Have a good day/night!


	8. Smile Part 3

The Doctor reached the city and began walking through the halls. He stopped and pulled the locket out of his pocket, opening it to look at the hologram once more. When he looked up again, one of the interfaces was coming towards him. He quickly put on a smile as he started forward.

“Ah! Good morning! I'm happy! Good morning. Look at me, I'm-- I’m-- I’m happy, happy, happy, happy! What a lovely, beautiful morning, it makes me so happy. I'm happy. I hope that you are happy, too.” The interface was still giving him a suspicious look so he turned to let it see the badge on his back. “See? Happy.”

Its face changed to a big grin and it continued on its way. The Doctor kept on walking. He wasn’t sure what to do. He knew he needed to get rid of the city, but he didn’t know how he was going to do it. And something else was nagging him.

_Those interfaces are everywhere, but where are the Vardies? It would take quite a lot of them to build this place, but we’ve only seen a few swarms. Where are they hiding? When we were escaping, they just appeared from nowhere._ His eyes fell on the smooth white wall. _Unless . . ._ He reached out and rested his hand on it. It seemed to hum beneath his fingers. _Of course!_

He started forward and came to a spiral staircase. As he started going down it, he heard someone’s gentle breathing in his ear. He raised a hand to use the communication device in his ear.

“Hello? Is someone there?” he asked. “I can hear you breathing.”

“Why are you Scottish?”

He turned to see his daughter coming towards him. He grabbed her arm and started down the stairs again.

“I'm not Scottish, I'm just cross,” he snapped. He had wanted her safe in the TARDIS before, but now that he knew how the city had been made, he was terrified that something might happen to her.

“Is there a Scotland in space?”

“They're all over the place, demanding independence from every planet that they land on. Why are you here?”

“Because I figured out why you keep your box as a phone box,” she declared.

“I told you, it's stuck.”

“‘Advice and Assistance Obtainable Immediately.’” She pointed at him. “You like that.”

“No, I don't.”

“See, this is the point,” Bill went on. Her arm slipped from his grasp as she raised her hand to gesture. “You don't call the helpline because you are the helpline.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to grin at him.

“Don't sentimentalise me. I don't just fly around helping people out.”

“What are you doing right now?” she challenged.

“I happened to be passing by, so I'm mucking in.”

“You've never passed by in your life,” she scoffed. “You couldn't even leave me serving chips.”

_Well, I had a very good reason for that_ , he thought.

“So, I'm not going to leave you.”

She was grinning triumphantly so stepped forward. “Look at the wall.”

“The wall?”

He pointed at the wall, hoping to help her realize how serious the situation was. “Closely.” She moved to do as he said and he followed after her. “Before, when the Vardi, the little microbots, were going to attack you, you asked me where they came from. Well, they didn't come from anywhere. They were here all the time.”

“What? In the wall?” she stammered.

“No. Not in the wall.” He held up a hand and took a step back. Bill did so as well as he pulled his screwdriver out of his pocket. He pointed it at the wall to reveal that it was made of tiny, shifting robots. “They're not in the wall, they are the wall. They're all the walls. These little robots, they didn't build this place, they became it. They can be a part of a wall one minute, flying around the next. This whole structure is built from interlocking microbots.” He turned to look at his daughter. She was staring at the wall, a look of shock on her face. He pocketed his screwdriver. “Smile! You're in the belly of the beast.”

“So what do we do?”

“Well, the obvious. We find a real wall,” he explained. He turned to find Bill smiling up at him. “Oh, you really are smiling, aren't you?”

“Do you know why?” she asked. He shook his head. “You're an awesome tutor.”

He nodded slowly, trying to ignore the pain that came with the reminder that he was just her teacher now. His eyes fell on the necklace she was wearing so he quickly stepped past her, continuing down the stairs. It had been a gift. Growing up, she had always loved watching him play the guitar so he and River had given her the necklace for her twelfth birthday.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Bill asked presently.

“I’m heading for the centre of this place.”

“Why?”

“When the Vikings invaded, they used to pull their longboats out of the water, turn them upside down and live in them as houses until they'd pillaged and looted enough to build new ones,” he explained.

“So?”

“You didn't see a space ship outside, did you? When the settlers first landed, they must have lived in it and built out from it, so it's still here, somewhere inside this building.” He spotted part of the wall that wasn’t perfectly smooth and white. “Ah.” Moving forward, he touched the wall, feeling how the white part was still vibrating while the metal section was cold and still. “Bits of meteor damage. Flecks of rust. Rivets. Oh, I love rivets. A wall. A real, honest wall. Not made of tiny robots but made of any old iron.”

Bill grinned. “Every spacecraft needs . . . a door!”

She hurried over to the door and tugged on the handle. It didn’t budge. The Doctor stepped forward and pressed the button in the middle of it. It opened with a hiss and swung inward.

“Not even locked.”

Lights flicked on along the hallway of the ship.

“They were expecting to live in peace.”

He stepped inside. Bill followed him.

“Wicked,” she breathed.

“We'll lock it after us, shall we?” he said, pushing the door shut.

The Doctor and Bill made their way through the spaceship. It seemed to be coming to life around them.

“Its life support systems are starting up,” he explained. “It knows we're here.”

“Whoever did the interior decoration in here needs to take lessons from whoever did it out there.”

“Ah, this was built by humans, that was built by Vardi. Wet brains, dry brains.”

They made their way through a maze of pipes and supports. The Doctor wasn’t really sure where he was going, but he had been in enough spaceships to have a general idea of where to go. Rounding a corner, he spotted something ahead of them.

“Ah!” He slipped between the railing and a support and started towards the wall in front of him. “Good, old, universally compatible, incorruptible maps. You are here.” He pointed to the red mark. Then he quickly spotted his destination. He moved his finger to point at it, working out the quickest way there. “This is the engine room. That's the target. That's where I'm going.”

“Where am I going?”

“You are staying here,” he said, pointing to the ground. “And you will be guiding me to here, using this map.” He knew he was gesturing a little too much, but he hoped he still sounded convincing. “I'll hear you through the thingummybob.” He gestured to his ears and started away.

“I'm on a spaceship,” he heard his daughter exclaim. “Like, for real. A proper one.”

“Left or right?” he asked. He knew it was right, but he had to ask her or she’d know he’d tricked her.

“Oh! Er . . . Right.”

After a few more turns, the Doctor came into the cargo bay. It was full of all sorts of odds and ends. “Well, they were certainly planning to make themselves at home here,” he observed, picking up a bust of Queen Nefertiti. “They brought all their favourite knick-knacks.”

“Er, there should be a door that leads onto a corridor.”

Setting the bust down, he headed for the door. He heard Bill chuckle softly.

“I really am on a spaceship.”

“Yes. Which we are about to blow up.”

“How are you allowed to do that? Like, how are you allowed to blow something up and not get into trouble? I mean, blow something up, get into trouble. That is a standard sequence.”

“What do you mean, allowed?” he said, heading along a corridor. “It's a moral imperative. This is a murder machine.”

“Beautiful, though. I mean, the whole place. Er, you should be able to see a staircase.”

“All traps are beautiful, that's how they work,” he pointed out. “Up or down?”

“Down.”

He started down the staircase.

“What?” Bill said. “What's this big bit in the middle? There's a big, empty space in the middle. The engine is right in the middle of a big, empty space. What's that for?”

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the ship. Bill let out a startled gasp. “Attention. Attention. Erewhon systems initiated.”

“The ship's systems are set to respond to human presence,” the Doctor explained. “It was sleeping. We walked in, now it's waking up.”

“Er, there should be a ladder,” she informed him.

“Got it,” he replied, spotting the ladder on his left. He climbed down it and pulled open a hatch. A cloud of steam rose out with a hiss and an alarm sounded nearby. He climbed down a second ladder, stopping to get a look at the engine.

“Beautiful. Fleishman Cold Fusion Engine. All I've got to do is back the flow into the calorimeter and run.” He let out a chuckle. “It's like it wants to get blown up.” He began easing himself around the ladder onto the narrow catwalk. _They could have made railings._

“Hang on, I'm being thick. I can come with you,” Bill said.

He grinned. “Took that long to think of photographing it?”

“You'd already memorised it, hadn't you?”

“Yep,” he replied smugly. He could picture her annoyed face and was doing his best not to laugh.

“Stop trying to keep me out of trouble,” she protested.

“There's no trouble,” he said as he made his way towards the engine. The ground shook and he lunged forward, grabbing onto the engine to keep from falling. “This is going to be a stroll in the park.” He glanced down, trying to get an idea of how far down the drop was. _Far enough not to want to fall down_ , he decided as he began inching around the engine. He quickly set to work.

A few moments later, Bill’s voice appeared in his ear once more, but he couldn’t make out the words.

“I can't hear you!” he called. He sonicked a hose connection and then pulled it out, gasping and dropping it as the steam pouring from it scalded his hand. “This isn't as easy as it looks.”

“I've got to know. The people who came here, were they the last people? Were they our last hope?”

The Doctor was surprised by the emotion in her voice. He knew he needed to comfort her because, at the moment, she thought she was human -- in fact, she _was_ human -- and these were “her people”, but he was in a hurry and didn’t really know what to say.

“Earth was evacuated,” he explained as he pulled open a grate and tossed it down the hole. “But there were a number of ships.” He pulled out two hoses from their connections and switched them. “I've bumped into a few of them over the years.” He got to his feet and took a step back as the engine began humming loudly. “Right, I've re-routed the flow.”

There was a rattling sound so he quickly moved towards it. “No, no, no, no, no, no. That's not right. Bad noise.” A wheel was rapidly spinning anti-clockwise. “That's not right. No. No! Er . . .” He grabbed the wheel and the needle on the calorimeter gauge began to climb again. He tried to turn the wheel clockwise, but it slipped from his hands and the needle began dropping again. He tapped the glass front of the gauge. “No. When the calorimeter reaches its peak . . . I could do with a hand here!” he called.

“Okay, on my way,” Bill said.

The Doctor grabbed the wheel again and held onto it, trying to turn it back. His daughter’s voice appeared in his ear again.

“Doctor, there's something you need to know.”

“I'm too busy!” he called. The needle was almost in the red zone, but the wheel slipped from his grasp and he had to grab onto the engine to keep from falling. He continued trying to stop the wheel but it was determined to keep turning. As he grabbed it a third time, he spotted a spanner hanging on the side of the engine.

“Almost with you, Doctor,” Bill said.

He heard footsteps behind him.

“You took your time,” he scolded. “When I let this go, it's going to spin back.” He grabbed the spanner and held it up. “I want you to hold it tight while I jam it shut.”

He glanced up at the gauge again and saw the death emoji of an interface reflected in the glass. Spinning around, he swung the spanner and knocked the little machine off the platform. However, it grabbed hold of his ankle as it fell, pulling him down to the catwalk.

“Doctor? Doctor, can you hear me?” Bill called.

“Ah! Don't worry about me,” he grunted. “I'm having the time of my life, making new friends!”

Grabbing hold of the hose that had burnt him earlier, he swung it around and pointed it at the interface. It let go, falling to explode as it hit the fan at the bottom. Then he got to his feet and jammed the spanner into the wheel, stopping it. The needle in the gauge finally began rising steadily.

“Get ready to run!” he called. “Run really fast!”

He began running across the catwalk himself, but he came to a stop when he was met by his daughter and a young boy. The same boy whose picture was in the locket he had found.

“What?” he exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”

“Where is everybody?” the boy asked.

The Doctor felt a wave of dread wash over him. “When you say everybody . . .”

They quickly made their way up the ladder and through the ship to a section lined with cryogenic pods. A woman’s voice came over the PA. As she spoke, the pods began to activate.

“My very good people, we will soon be beginning an emergency disembarkation. Good people, please prepare for disembarkation. We wish you a happy new world.”

“Doctor?” Bill said.

“Pods. Pods.”

“What is it? What's happening?”

“We can't blow up the city.”

Turning on his heels, the Doctor darted back down to the engine room.

“Why?’ Bill called after him. “Those pods, what's in them?”

“I got it wrong,” he explained, wrenching the spanner out of the wheel. “I got it very, very wrong.” He reconnected the hose he had used against the interface. “The colony ship isn't on the way, it's right here.” Moving around the engine, he knelt down and switched the hoses he had found under the grate. “The colonists are all around us, cryogenically frozen. What's in those pods, Bill, is the surviving population of Earth. And I nearly killed all of them.”

“They're waking up, aren't they?” she asked, horrified.

“We must have triggered the process when we came in.”

“So what happens now?”

“Now? Now they're all going to leave this ship, and find their friends and family mulched in the garden. And if they don't smile about that, it's going to be the end of the human race.” The gravity of the situation was beginning to set in. He was opposed to genocide as a rule, but he wasn’t sure which was worse, intentional genocide, committed for a reason that could benefit others, or accidental genocide, a byproduct of a failed attempt to save the very people who ended up dead.

Bill had pulled her knees closer to herself and was clinging tightly to one. He could see she was upset, the horror on her face was plain as day. Every cell in his body longed to crawl the short distance over to her and pull her into his arms, holding her close as he reassured her (and himself) that it was going to be okay.

But he knew he couldn’t do it. Instead, he got to his feet and offered her a hand. She took it and he helped her up.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“We need to get up there and make sure no one leaves this ship,” he explained. “Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. Please consider leaving a comment!
> 
> Have a good day!


	9. Smile Part 4

The Doctor and Bill quickly climbed up the ladder and made their way back to the rows of pods. As they rounded the corner, they saw a young man coming towards them.

"Argh. Oh, those pods, eh?" he chuckled. "Not much headroom." He rubbed his neck and seemed to realize they were actually there. "Oh, I thought I'd be first up. Steadfast, MedTech One. What day is this?"

"The end of the world," the Doctor informed him.

"Again?" he laughed uneasily. "We've only just got here."

The Doctor tried to keep himself from rolling his eyes as he turned to walk away. "Bill, with me."

"What's happening?" Steadfast asked.

He turned back to glare at him. "What's happening is nobody leaves this ship until I tell you otherwise. Clear? Nobody leaves." He pointed at the man and turned to leave. Bill followed after him.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"No idea," he admitted. "But if I look purposeful, they'll think I've got a plan. If they think I've got a plan, at least they won't try to think of a plan themselves."

"But you don't have a plan?"

He stopped walking to turn and look at her. "I don't know how to stop it happening again because I can't figure out why it happened last time. What made them do this?"

She thought for a moment before saying, "I think I need to show you something."

She turned and headed deeper into the ship. He considered for a moment before following her. She led him back to the cargo bay then past a curtain into a smaller room. The body of an old woman lay in the middle of it. He stepped closer, moving around to examine her face. There was a badge on her forehead showing a dead face.

"Well, I don't think you need the emoji to see she's dead," he huffed.

"So, what happened?"

The Doctor thought for a moment. "The spacecraft landed. Most of the colonists were kept in cryogenic suspension. A few, the ones with skills--"

"The best ones. The brave ones."

"They were woken to shepherd the little flocks of Vardi robots."

Bill moved to the information book at the foot of the pedestal. "She came here. She was happy."

He moved around to join her. The screen was showing images of the woman with many other people.

"It was all going well," she observed.

He reached out to go back a picture and zoom in, trying to get a good look at some of the faces.

"Those are the shepherds, aren't they?" Bill asked. "And they're all dead."

"If we rearrange this data to reflect the time of death, what do we get?" He swiped the screen and the information arranged itself into an inverted pyramid. He touched the bottom rectangle and it showed a picture of the dead woman.

"That's her," his daughter observed.

He moved to examine the body again.

"This woman died. There's no sign of violence. So, you know, she just died the way that humans do." He moved back to look at the data again. "Then a few more people died all at the same time, and then a lot more died just after. And then, the rest." He glanced up at her. "Dozens."

"A virus?" she suggested. "A virus that went . . . well, viral?"

"Grief!" he realized. "Grief! Grief as plague."

"But how?"

"The Vardies. Well, their job was to maintain happiness," he explained. "At first, that meant making sure there was enough oxygen and water. That's what the badges are meant to communicate. Satisfaction. A positive mental state. But the Vardi are smart. They learn, try to be good servants, so they expand the definition of happiness until . . ."

"She dies."

"No one had ever died here before this lady. The Vardies, they've never heard of grief before. This place is all about hope and the future and happiness. No one ever thought about the opposite. The Vardies didn't know what to do with it. They identified grief as the enemy of happiness and everyone who was experiencing grief as a problem, as--" He pointed at Bill, waiting for her to finish the sentence.

"Compost."

"And all those dead people, well, you know, they had friends and family, too, so--"

"Even more compost," she finished for him.

"And so on, and so on, and so on. And what you get is a whole, like, a grief tsunami."

"And all of this took how long? One morning?" she asked. "All of these people were slaughtered in a day!

"Slaughtered for their own good, because the Vardi think different. Like the magic haddock. Not bad, not good, just, just different."

"So, what will happen when the new people meet the robots?"

The Doctor's face grew serious again. Pulling the locket out of his pocket, he walked over to his daughter and handed it to her. She took it from him and opened it.

"That's the boy," she observed. "The first to wake up. Where did you get this?"

"I think it's his mother's, don't you?"

"Yeah, or his nan's," Bill agreed. She closed it and handed it back to him. "Well, you'll find her, when she wakes up in her pod."

"I found it in the fruit garden, when we first arrived," he admitted.

Bill's face fell. "Oh," she choked out.

"I would say that a lot of the colonists had friends or family who were working here as shepherds. When they find out what happened--"

"They'll be grief-stricken."

"And after that--"

"A massacre."

The Doctor tore his gaze away from Bill's face and started out of the room. She moved to stop him.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"What's the opposite of a massacre?" he asked.

She shrugged and shook her head. "Okay, what?"

"In my experience, a lecture."

He stalked out of the room, making his way back to the pods. A few minutes later, they had gathered everyone who was awake and he had begun talking.

"You brought the Vardi here, microbots to make your life so easy. But like every slave class in history, the Vardi are beginning to have ideas of their own. They wanted to eliminate unhappiness, but to a robot that meant eliminating unhappy people. They gave you monitors, badges, so they'd know when you were too unhappy to live.

"Yesterday morning, a woman died. She was old. She died naturally. Peacefully. But she had family and friends. Naturally, they were upset. Of course, they would have gotten over their grief in time, but the Vardi didn't know that. They saw these people as a problem. So they killed them."

The group of people let out horrified gasps.

"Of course, those people had friends or family too," the Doctor went on. "They were also upset, so they were eliminated as well. And so the pattern continued. By the end of the morning, everyone was dead. The only thing left out there is the Vardi. Now, you need to understand--"

But the people weren't listening anymore. Steadfast had let out a shout and the colonists all followed after him as he ran out of the room. Bill and the Doctor followed after them.

"You need to listen," she called as Steadfast shoved open a door leading to a room full of weapons. He began passing out guns.

"I did listen. What did I miss?" he snapped. "The Vardi have killed our families."

"But you need to understand why that happened," the Doctor insisted.

"I don't care why."

"Then you will die, too, and so will everyone on your ship. The Vardi are not your enemy."

"They want to kill us."

"No. They want to help you," the Doctor tried to explain. "Killing you is just a side effect."

"Get out of my way." Steadfast pushed passed him.

"You've got guns," he called after him. "You think that will help against a whole living city?"

"That little boy, where did he go?" Bill asked.

"Come on."

They took off after the colonists. A few moments later, they were running through the city. They came into a room and were met by the boy. He was flanked by two interfaces.

"There he is!" Bill called.

"Step away from the kid," Steadfast commanded, pointing his gun at one of the interfaces.

"They're not armed," Bill pointed out. "You don't need to do this. You just need to--"

"What's wrong?" the boy called. "What's going on? Where's my mum? Where's everyone?" As he spoke, the interface's expressions turned serious. They each took hold of one of his wrists. "Where's everyone?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Don't cry," Bill called, rushing over to him. Don't cry! Hey, hey. Look, everything's going to be okay. Look. This is your new house. Isn't it lovely?"

"I want Mummy," he cried.

"Smile. Smile. Smile. Smile," she begged. "Everything's going to be fine if you just keep smiling."

But the interfaces were giving their death faces and turning towards the boy.

"Get away from the kid!" Steadfast yelled. He shot one of the interfaces in the belly and it fell over backwards. The other one began beeping rapidly as it's face flickered between expressions.

"What's that?" the Doctor asked as the expression settled on the death face. "Rage? Revenge?"

"It's one robot," Steadfast said.

"It's not one robot," Bill informed him. They all looked up as a section of the ceiling began to move. "Doctor, what do we do? Doctor, what's happening?"

It broke up into a swarm of Vardies which swooped down at them.

"Cover fire! Now!" Steadfast called. The colonists began attacking the swarm.

"It's fascinating!" the Doctor observed.

"What's fascinating?" Bill demanded, moving to tug the boy out of the way.

"The Vardi are identifying as under attack, which means they identify as a species. They are self-aware. They . . ." He spotted one of the interfaces whose face changed from a question to a lightbulb. "They're alive!"

"They're going to kill us!" his daughter pointed out.

There was a scream as a colonist was turned into a skeleton. The bones fell and scattered themselves across the floor. The Doctor rushed over to the fallen interface and tugged the head off.

"What are you doing?" Bill demanded.

"I really hope this doesn't hurt." He pulled out the main computer before fishing his screwdriver out of his pocket. "Do you know why I always win at chess? Because I have a secret move. I kick over the board. Here it comes!" He pointed the screwdriver at the computer and the interface sparked. There was a bang. An electric pulse knocked everyone out and the Vardies swarmed back up to take their place in the roof of the building. The only people still conscious were Bill and the boy, both of whom had been directly behind the Doctor when the explosion happened.

"What happened?" the boy asked.

"I reset them," he explained, looking around the room. "Erased their memory."

"How?" Bill said.

He shrugged. "Switched them off, switched them back on."

An interface came in, carrying a tray with a glass of some red liquid on it. The boy took a seat at the table by the wall and the interface offered him the drink.

"Why were they attacking us?" he asked.

"Let me tell you a story." The Doctor began pacing the room, looking down at all the unconscious colonists. "Once, long ago, a fisherman caught a magic haddock. The haddock offered the fisherman three wishes in return for its life. The fisherman said, 'I'd like my son to come home from the war, and a hundred pieces of gold.' The problem is magic haddock, like robots, don't think like people. The fisherman's son came home from the war in a coffin and the King sent a hundred gold pieces in recognition of his heroic death. The fisherman had one wish left. What do you think he wished for?"

The colonists began waking up.

"Some people say he should have wished for an infinite series of wishes, but if your city proves anything, it is that granting all your wishes is not a good idea."

Steadfast was getting to his feet. He spotted an interface and gasped, raising his gun.

"It's okay," Bill called. She moved to stand by the little machine. "It's not going to hurt you. Actually, it doesn't even know who you are."

"What happened? What have you done?" Steadfast demanded.

The Doctor ignored him in favour of continuing his story. "In fact, the fisherman wished that he hadn't wished the first two wishes. Thus, in a way, he pressed the reset button."

"What the hell did you do?"

The Doctor gave Steadfast a disbelieving look. "Aren't you listening? I pressed the reset button. Every computer has one, and anyone can find it. Especially if they happen to be a scary, handsome genius from space," he grinned. "I re-initialised the entire command structure, retaining all programmed abilities but deleting the supplementary preference architecture."

"He turned it off and on again," Bill added.

"I turned it off and on again," he said. Steadfast was still holding his gun. The Doctor moved to look at the interface. "Of course, I wiped their memories. They no longer have the faintest idea who you are. And, in fact, they're wondering what you're doing in their very nice city."

"Their city?" Steadfast demanded.

"Yes. Their city," he moved over to him. "It's made of them."

"It's our city."

"Oh." The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"They're our robots," Steadfast insisted.

"They were," Bill corrected.

"Welcome to your new world. Meet the Vardi. They are, as of now, the indigenous life form," the Doctor explained. "You'd best make friends with them because there's loads of them, and they're the only ones who know how anything works."

"They killed our people," Steadfast sighed.

"Well, look . . . They have forgotten about that. They've forgotten about you. They've forgotten that you even made them in the first place," the Doctor pointed out. "Now, since they have absolute power over this city, and since I'm assuming you all don't want to sleep rough tonight, I have a suggestion for you."

He walked over to stand by his daughter.

"Smile," they said in unison.

"You can't be serious," Steadfast scoffed.

"I am serious," the Doctor assured him. "In fact, I'm willing to be a negotiator."

"Are you now?"

"Yes. Watch." He made his way over to the interface which greeted him with a happy smile. "Hello, I'm the Doctor. A few hours ago, I made the mistake of not recognising your status as an emergent new lifeform. As recompense for my mistake, please allow me to act as your negotiator with a migratory conglomerate known as the human race. They're looking for a place to stay and they've got their eye on your city." The interface glanced at the colonists. "Would you like me to discuss rent?"

It beeped and its eyes changed to pound symbols.

A few hours later, everything had been arranged. Bill and the Doctor had made their way back to the TARDIS and were hurtling back through time and space.

"So, is it going to work?" she asked.

"That's up to them," he explained, pretending to be interested in what was on the monitor. While he enjoyed spending this time with his daughter, it also hurt to look at her.

"Did you just-- Well, did we just . . . jumpstart a new civilisation?"

"It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it."

"Did you do this all the time?"

"Do what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Fly around sorting things out, like some kind of intergalactic policeman."

He wanted to look annoyed but he was smiling. "I don't sort things out. I'm definitely not a policeman," he said.

"Well, y-you live in a police box."

He sighed dramatically. "That's a pure coincidence."

"Yeah, of course," Bill replied. Her voice was full of sarcasm.

The TARDIS materialized so the Doctor moved around the console and pulled the lever down. He offered his daughter a sad smile.

"Back at the exact moment we left," he informed her. He could see the disappointment in her eyes. "The kettle's boiling, I've got a vault to guard, and everything is exactly as we left it."

He watched her slowly making her way to the door. She put her hand on the latch and it creaked open.

"Wasn't snowing when we left," Bill observed.

The Doctor let out a gasp and rushed over to her. He peered over her shoulder and the white world outside.

"Maybe I do need a steering wheel," he admitted.

They stepped out of the TARDIS.

"Where are we?" Bill asked.

"London," he replied. He stomped his feet on what he could now tell was ice. "And this is . . . the Thames."

They turned to see an elephant coming across the ice towards them. It let out a loud trumpet and a church bell tolled in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please consider leaving a comment telling me what you think!
> 
> Next chapter will be another flashback, though I'm not sure when I'll post it. We'll see.


	10. Pregnant

_“How are you feeling?”_

_River looked up from her work to scowl playfully at her husband._

_“I'm not made of glass, you know.”_

_The Doctor laughed. “I didn't say you were, but you did look rather tired when we got home.”_

_“I'm fine, Sweetie,” she assured him. “It was just a long day.”_

_He nodded. “Can I get you anything?”_

_She considered for a moment. “Tea,” she decided._

_“Just tea?”_

_“Mmm. But without sugar.”_

_The Doctor glanced at her curiously. She never took her tea without sugar. “If you say so.”_

_He got to his feet and left her to her marking. He quickly set about making tea. When it was ready, he poured it into two mugs, adding no sugar to one and far too much to the other. He carried both of them into the other room and handed one to his wife._

_“Thank you,” she murmured._

_He motioned for her to get up. Once she had, he took her place in the chair and she climbed into his lap. He watched as she sipped her tea._

_“Enjoying that?”_

_River nodded. “Yes, thank you. It's perfect.”_

_He just laughed. Setting his mug aside, he slipped his arms around her waist and rested his chin against her shoulder._

_“You know, I can still hardly believe this.”_

_“It's been almost two months,” River smiled._

_“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But it's still incredible. Every morning I wake up thinking I've imagined it all.”_

_“I know what you mean,” she agreed. “But then I sit up and I feel nauseous and I remember I'm sharing my body with someone else now.”_

_The Doctor let his hands settle over her belly._

_“It's still too early to show,” she said._

_“I know, but you're beginning to feel a bit different.”_

_River's hands covered his._

_“What I still can't believe is how incredibly calm you're being about this whole thing,” she admitted. “I keep thinking you're going to freak out and leave.”_

_His arms tightened around her._

_“River, I hope you know I would never do that.”_

_“I do. I just said I keep thinking you'll leave. I didn't say I believed it.”_

_He moved back so he could look her in the eye. “Same difference.”_

_“Not really.”_

_The Doctor huffed. Then he laughed and began pressing kisses to her neck. “You're incorrigible.”_

_“Hmm. I don't think you'd like me if I wasn't,” she chuckled._

______

_The Doctor glanced to the left to see his wife slumped in her seat, her chin tucked under her seat belt. Her gaze was fixed on the dashboard in front of her._

_“River?”_

_She blinked and turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised._

_“Eyes on the road, Sweetie,” she reminded._

_He turned to look at the road as he asked, “Are you okay?”_

_“I'm just a bit tired,” she admitted._

_He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her hands settled over her belly and the small bump that still wasn't visible._

_“We're almost home.”_

_A few minutes later, the Doctor was unlocking the door to their apartment. He let River in first and shut the door behind them. She dumped her bag on the sofa and started towards the hall._

_“I think I'm just going to lie down for a few minutes before getting to work,” she yawned._

_He nodded. “You probably should. Would you like me to get you anything?”_

_“Maybe just a glass of water.”_

_“Okay.”_

_She vanished down the hall so he picked up her bag and took it to their office. Then he headed to the kitchen and got a glass of water._

_He entered their bedroom and found his wife curled up on the bed. Her eyes were closed and she let out a quiet snore when he rested a hand on her arm. He laughed quietly and set the glass on the bedside table._

_River hadn't even taken off her shoes so he carefully pulled them off her feet before trying to pull the covers out from under her. He was afraid he would wake her, but she was sound asleep. He carefully tucked the blankets around her, stepping back with a fond smile._

_The Doctor looked up as his wife entered the room. Her hair, which had started the day neatly piled on her head, was now messy and falling out of its pins. Her cheek was creased from the pillow and she looked dazed._

_“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said._

_“It's not morning,” she grumbled, sinking into the sofa beside him and curling into his side._

_“It's not morning every other time we wake up either, but we still say, ‘Good morning,’” he pointed out._

_She swatted at him before covering her mouth to stifle a yawn._

_“You were sound asleep less than five minutes after we got here and you slept for nearly five hours.”_

_“I've been really tired the last few weeks,” she admitted. “I guess it finally caught up with me.”_

_The Doctor laughed. “You're growing a Time Lord. You need all the rest you can get.”_

_River hummed. She buried her nose in his shoulder for a moment before pulling back to say, “Yes, but I've also got a job.”_

_“Is that more important?”_

_She shrugged. “Do you still have any marking you need to do?”_

_“No. Why?”_

_“You could help me with mine.”_

_He glanced at her. “Last time I offered to help, you said you would never let me near your papers.”_

_“Because I'm not necessarily teaching them what really happened and you don't know what I've taught.”_

_“Lying to your students, Professor Song?” he teased. “Shame on you.”_

_She hit him again. “You know what I mean. Anyway, what I want you to do is read what they've written and write what I tell you to.”_

_“And what if I don't agree with what’s written?”_

_“Then you'll hold your tongue.”_

_He laughed. “Very well.”_

______

_“Doctor, are you almost ready,” River demanded. She was hovering in the doorway to their bedroom, watching as her husband tied his shoes. His waistcoat and velvet coat were still lying on the bed beside him._

_“Yes, dear,” he replied. “But I'd have been ready a lot sooner if you hadn't sent me to search through the whole TARDIS for a book that turned out to be in our library out here.”_

_She huffed and scowled at him, crossing her arms over her small bump. He pulled on his waistcoat and buttoned it up before getting to his feet and picking up his coat._

_“Grumpy today, I see,” he laughed as he moved towards her._

_Her scowl deepened. He pulled her into a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She melted into his embrace and slipped a hand behind his head so she could kiss him, but when his lips travelled down to her neck, she pushed him away._

_“We're going to be late,” she protested._

_“It's just school,” he mumbled, pressing another kiss to her neck._

_“You sound like a student,” she laughed._

_“Mmm.” He pulled away to look at her curiously. “Have you changed your perfume?”_

_She nodded, taking the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and head for the front door._

_“I'm surprised you noticed,” she teased._

_“Why though? I liked your perfume. It smelled like you.”_

_She laughed in spite of herself. “It only smelled like me because I wore it. Anyway, it was making me sick.”_

_“How so?” he asked, following after her._

_“The smell. It made me nauseous. Now come on.”_

_A few minutes later, they were in the car and on their way to the University. River was glaring at the dashboard like she usually did those days._

_“Doctor?” she said presently. Her voice was small and insecure._

_“Yes?”_

_“Do you really want this child?”_

_“We've been over this before,” he replied._

_“I know, but--” She paused. “If I wasn't already pregnant, would you have wanted a child?”_

_He thought for a minute. “I don't know, River, because I had never thought about it. If I had known you wanted children, then I suppose I would have been happy to try, but-- Look, it really doesn't matter because you are pregnant, we are having a child, and I couldn't be happier about it.”_

_“But--”_

_“River, please.” He reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze._

_“But I'm worried. What if something happens?”_

_“Such as?”_

_She shrugged. “I don't know. But I'm only part Time Lord. What if something goes wrong? What if I . . .” She trailed off, but he understood what she meant._

_His grip on her hand tightened. “You'll be fine. The child will be fine. We'll make sure of it.”_

______

_The Doctor closed the door behind him and dumped his things in the nearest chair._

_“River?” he called._

_Her reply came from the direction of the library. He made his way there and found her curled up on the sofa with a book opened on her lap. He sat beside her and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her mouth opened against his and she curled her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss._

_“I've missed you,” she purred when she pulled away._

_“Mmm. How was your day?”_

_She sighed. “Long, boring, and miserable.”_

_“Oh?”_

_“My back aches,” she groaned. “And I've got nothing to do.”_

_“Well, if your back aches, then I'm sure you'd rather not be at work.”_

_She huffed. “But I'm bored.”_

_“River, you know why you have to stay here. You passed out the other day. The doctors said to take a week or two off.”_

_She snorted. “I fainted once,” she protested. “It's not a big deal. Other people may faint several times a day and they aren't told to take a week off.”_

_The Doctor pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her head. “You and I both know the risks,” he murmured. “But I'm sure the risks will be worth it, and we can do our best to reduce them.”_

_“Well, I'm going back to work next week, no matter what anyone says.”_

_“Even if I begged you?”_

_“Even if you begged me,” she insisted._

_“Here.” He shifted River off of him and began gently rubbing her back._

_“Lower, Sweetie,” she mumbled._

_He complied and they sat together in silence for several minutes as he continued massaging her back. Eventually, she motioned for him to stop._

_“I'd like some supper,” she said._

_“Would you like to take a hot bath while I prepare it?”_

_“Mmm. I hadn't thought of that,” she murmured. “That sounds lovely.”_

_“I'll go get it ready for you.”_

_“You don't have to,” she protested._

_“No.” He moved to press a quick kiss to her lips before getting to his feet. “But I want to.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'd think that with two weeks of spring break I'd have plenty of time to write, but I've hardly written anything and I'm halfway through the second week. I did start another fanfic, but I won't be publishing it for quite some time . . . if I publish it at all. Anyway, I'll try and get the next chapters written soon so I can publish them without too much wait.


	11. Thin Ice Part 1

The Doctor and Bill stared out across the crowded ice. The elephant in front of them trumpeted as it’s handler led it on. Bill took a step forward, looking around in awe but he frowned. Shifting his weight, he tested the feel of the ice beneath his feet, trying to confirm where they were. His daughter turned back to him.

“Okay. I have questions,” she started.

He held up a finger to stop her. Without looking up, he turned and stepped back into the TARDIS, making his way over to the console to check the coordinates. Bill followed a moment later, closing the door behind her.

“You never said we could travel to parallel worlds,” she said.

“Not a parallel world,” he replied.

“But that's London.”

He pulled the scanner around to show her the map of London.

“Our London. We're on the Thames. The last great Frost Fair. 1814, February the fourth,” he explained.

“Hang on, why aren't we home? Can't you steer this thing?” she asked.

“I told you. You don't steer the TARDIS, you reason with it.”

“How?”

“Unsuccessfully, most of the time,” he admitted. He had programmed the coordinates for a short hop into the console so he pulled on the lever and the Time Rotor began moving. “She's a bad girl, this one. Always looking for trouble.”

They materialised again and the Doctor made his way over to the door, checking to make sure they had landed where he wanted them. Sure enough, they were on the bridge crossing the Thames, overlooking the crowded fair. He stepped out of the TARDIS and approached the rail, admiring the view.

The familiar sight tugged at his hearts. The last time he had seen it had been with River. It had been her birthday and she had been so happy so he had been happy too. He wished she was there with them again.

_At least I can bring Bill_ , he thought, though he wished she was herself. While it was wonderful to see her in awe of time travel, he longed to have his _daughter_ by his side once more.

“Whoa,” Bill breathed.

He turned to find her standing in the doorway. “Last day before the thaw. Thought I'd better find a more reliable parking spot,” he explained.

“Wait, you want to go out there?” she asked.

“You don't?”

“It's 1814,” she pointed out. Then she pointed at her face. “Melanin.”

“Yes?” he said, unsure where she was going with this.

“Slavery is still totally a thing,” she reminded him.

He turned so she couldn’t see his face. “Yes, so it is,” he murmured. He had never approved of slavery. He didn’t understand why humans believed that the colour of their skin gave them the right to enslave those who weren’t like them. However, the realisation that there were people who wouldn’t hesitate to enslave his own daughter simply because she was born with dark skin while they wouldn’t have dreamed of touching either him or River uncovered feelings of anger and sadness that he hadn’t felt for some time.

He quickly pushed those feelings away. Bill needed him to assure her now, not sympathise with her.

“It might be, like, dangerous out there,” she said nervously.

“Definitely dangerous,” he teased.

“So, how do we stay out of trouble?”

“Well, I'm not the right person to ask,” he admitted.

“Okay, whe-- When you go somewhere dangerous, what do you take?” she asked.

He was about to make a joke when he noticed that she was still wearing a tank-top. Apart from the fact that her outfit would be considered scandalous in 1814, he suspected she must be getting cold. Her body was currently human, after all. So he pointed into the TARDIS. “First door on the left, second right, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on the left.”

“What's there?”

“The wardrobe. Pick a dress,” he instructed.

“So the TARDIS has dresses and likes a bit of trouble?” she said, sounding impressed. She grinned. “Yeah, I think I'm low-key in love with her.”

“Me too,” he grinned.

She turned and stepped back into the TARDIS. He moved to follow her but almost ran into a man carrying a basket of fruits and vegetables.

“Watch out, sir!” the man instructed cheerfully.

The Doctor stepped around him and into the TARDIS, but he saw the man slip and drop his basket over the side of the bridge. Ignoring this, he made his way to the wardrobe and picked out a few period-appropriate items of clothing. Then he went into the changing room and slipped into the clean clothes. He pulled on the black frock coat and picked up the top hat and black gloves. He put these on as he made his way back to the console room to wait for Bill.

She appeared a few minutes later wearing a long dress with a short, fir-trimmed jacket to keep her warm. Her hair was pulled back and she wore a headband with a few feathers sticking up from it. He left the TARDIS ahead of her and offered her his hand. She took it and grinned at him, stepping neatly out onto the bridge.

“Doesn't anyone notice the TARDIS?” she asked as he pulled the door shut.

“The human species hardly notices anything,” he chuckled.

They started making their way down towards the ice.

“So, what are the rules?” Bill asked.

“Rules?” he repeated.

“Yeah. Travelling to the past, there's got to be rules. If I step on a butterfly, it could send ripples through time that mean I'm not even born in the first place and I could just disappear,” she said.

He hated to think about the fact that her existence was influenced by so much time travel that it would be easier to accidentally erase herself than it would be for most people. But he knew it was still unlikely so he decided to tease her instead. “Definitely. I mean, that's what happened to Pete.”

She stared at him blankly. “Pete?”

“Your friend, Pete.” He pointed to a spot where no one was standing. “He was standing there a moment ago, but he stepped on a butterfly and now you don't even remember him.”

Bill frowned at the empty space. Then she realised he was messing with her so she hit him in the arm. “Shut up! I'm being serious!”

“Yeah, so was Pete,” he teased.

“You know what I mean. Every choice I make in this moment, here and now, could change the whole future.”

“Exactly like every other day of your life,” he pointed out. “The only thing to do is to stop worrying about it.”

“Hmm.” She still looked suspicious. “Okay. If you say so.”

She grinned at him so he couldn’t resist teasing her one last time.

“Pete stopped worrying.”

“Chestnuts, sir?” a man offered.

“Ooh!” the Doctor exclaimed. He pulled a coin out of his pocket and offered it to the vendor.

“Here you are, sir,” the man said, handing him a bag of chestnuts.

The Doctor turned to see a young girl offering Bill a flyer. “Come to the Frost Fair, miss. Only a sixpence, miss.”

“Oh, my God,” Bill laughed. She glanced up at him so he looked pointedly at the girl. She reached for the paper, but she hesitated at the last second.

“You're not stepping on a butterfly, you're just taking a flyer,” he said gently.

Bill took the flyer and grinned at the girl. The Doctor handed her the bag of hot chestnuts in lieu of payment.

“It's just time travel,” he told his daughter. He took his hat off and set it on the young girl’s head. She offered him an adorable smile. “Don't overthink it.”

He started down the steps, running a hand through his hair before rubbing his nose.

“Is that what you said to Pete?” Bill asked.

He frowned. “Who's Pete?”

They continued down the steps and the Doctor turned to grin up at his daughter. A man stood at the foot of the steps calling, “Sixpence to the waterman! Sixpence for the Frost Fair!” so the Doctor dug in his pocket for another coin. He paid the man and stepped onto the ice. Then he turned and watched as Bill handed the man the flyer before slowly taking her first step into history.

She slowly stepped out onto the ice before looking up to grin at him.

“Yeah, no big deal,” she said casually. “Just walking on the Thames!” She let out a laugh. She moved towards him quickly. “I hope you realise I'm going to try everything. Everything.”

He smiled and followed her into the crowd. Spotting his favourite vendor, he stopped and quickly bought something to eat. Then he made his way through the crowd, munching on his snack until he spotted Bill coming towards him, looking a bit disgusted.

“Yeah. Maybe not everything,” she admitted.

He held up his food. “Oh, go on. Try this, at least. It's my favourite.”

She looked away in and made a noise of disgust. “Your favourite?” Then she seemed to realise what that meant. “Wait, you've been here before?”

“Oh, yeah. A few times,” he nodded.

They started through the crowd again.

“When was the last time you were here?” Bill asked.

“Oh, long time ago, for me. But for Earth? Maybe two days.” He spotted a nearby tent. “Come. Let’s get some cocoa.” He led Bill over to the lady who was busy making cups of hot cocoa.

“How can I help you?” she smiled up at them.

“Uh, we’d like two cups of cocoa,” he said. He turned to his daughter. “I love this cocoa. It’s some of the best in the universe.”

“Have you come by before?” the woman asked as she handed Bill a mug. “I don’t remember seeing you about.”

The Doctor realised his mistake. “Oh, uh, no. I haven’t actually,” he lied. “But a friend of mine told me about it. Perhaps you remember him? Young fellow, floppy hair. Big chin. He wore a bowtie.”

“Ah, yes. I remember him,” the woman nodded. “He nearly caused an incident trying to get that piano under the bridge. Knocked out several stalls.”

The Doctor looked sheepish as he paid for their drinks and accepted his mug. “Yeah, that was him.”

He and Bill turned away and made for the entrance.

“Who’s this friend you were talking about?” she asked.

“No one. I was describing myself. I didn’t always look like this you know.”

“Uh, okay,” she said slowly. She paused. “Did you really knock several stalls down?”

“Uh, yeah. I wasn’t exactly the most graceful person back then.”

They ducked out of the tent and continued their stroll along the ice.

“So, you had to find a piano?” Bill said.

“Yeah.”

“And get it down onto the ice?”

“Yes. Under the bridge. Right there,” he pointed to the bridge where he could still picture his wife standing, smiling up at him with so much love in her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well, your-- I mean, my wife wanted to see Stevie Wonder, and this seemed like a romantic spot.” Deciding it was best to change the subject, the looked around. Oh . . .” he said, spotting a sword-swallower and staring towards him.

“Wait, you’re married?” Bill called after him.

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned at her. “I think so,” he chuckled. _Otherwise, I’m not sure how you exist_ , he added in his head. Then he pointed to the sword-swallower.

She looked away with an expression of amused confusion before moving to join him. He grinned at her but she was watching the man with a look of mild horror on her face. The man pulled the sword out of his mouth and the crowd cheered.

They moved on but Bill stopped to watch two men wrestling. Somehow, the Doctor found himself holding both mugs as Bill cheered the men on.

“Get him!” she exclaimed.

The Doctor scowled. He felt strangely jealous, though he didn’t know why. He supposed it was because Bill was currently showing more interest in something she could see every day, rather than the amazing things he wanted to be showing her.

“Of course, it's not really wrestling unless it's in zero gravity,” he quipped.

“Seriously?” Bill said, turning to look at him.

“With tentacles,” he added.

“Okay,” she laughed. He was glad to see she looked impressed.

“And magic spells.”

She let out a laugh and turned back to the wrestling match. The sound of her laugh was enough to bring his smile back to his face.

The match ended so he led her away from the cheering crowd.

“Interesting,” Bill observed. She was studying the people.

“What is?”

“Regency England. Bit more black than they show in the movies.”

“So was Jesus,” he pointed out. “History's a whitewash.”

They continued walking. Bill glanced into each of the tents they passed. Sometimes she’d pull away with a face and quickly drag him past, other times she’d pull him into the tent and they’d watch whatever was happening in it for a few minutes. He was so glad to see she was enjoying herself that he hated to ruin her mood by pointing out the lights he had seen.

_I’ll give her some more time to have fun,_ he decided. _If she hasn’t noticed the lights herself in an hour or so, I’ll point them out._

As they watched people trying to knock over skittles with a ball, Bill turned to the Doctor.

“Have you got any money?” she asked. “I’d like to give it a go.”

“Sure.” He pulled a coin out of his pocket and offered it to the person in charge. He accepted it and handed Bill a ball.

She took it and bowled, toppling all the skittles at once. Everyone cheered and the Doctor grinned at her proudly.

“Pub champion, two years running,” she informed him.

“Ah,” he sighed as she bent to pick up another ball. Spotting a top hat sitting on the bench along the table, he wandered over to it and casually picked it up. He made his way back over to his daughter who looked up at him with a confused look on her face. Then he put the hat on her head.

“Huh,” she said.

He grinned and gestured towards the entrance to the tent. They ducked through it and the Doctor pulled the hat off of his head to examine it. Then he set it back on his head, pushing it down over his eyes and turning to glance at Bill. She was watching the acrobats they were passing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally sat down and wrote this. I've finished the whole episode so I'll publish the next few chapters soon enough. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment letting me know what you think!


	12. Thin Ice Part 2

The Doctor followed Bill into another tent where the man was calling, "Best fish pies on the ice. Try your luck, ladies and gentlemen! Toss for a pie!"

The Doctor pulled several coins out of his pocket and offered them to Bill. She took them and handed one to the man. She called and he flipped the coin.

"Argh!" she exclaimed when he revealed the result of the toss. The Doctor eyes him suspiciously. He knew it was a trick and he wanted to know how it had been done.

"Better luck next time, miss," the man said, choosing a pie for her.

"And you're sure this isn't cow brains or sheep eyes or . . ."

He handed her the pie. "No, I caught the fish myself, miss," he assured her. The Doctor leaned forward to inspect his jacket. "Made it right here in the old--" He broke off and spun around, knocking the Doctor's hand away. "Hey! What are you about?"

"Do that again. Toss the coin," the Doctor demanded.

"Pay me another and I will."

The Doctor did so as Bill bit into her pie.

"Forget about the pie, I don't want a pie," the Doctor said. "I just want to see how you cheated."

"Cheated?" the man demanded.

"Doctor?" Bill called, but he wasn't listening.

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "I'm saying you're a very good con-man."

"A what?"

"A trickster. A swindler. See, I'm a bit of a thief myself. You know, I bet you that I could steal anything from your shop," he boasted.

He pulled off his top hat and began wandering around the tent. The man glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice that he had sneaked a few pies into the hat. Placing the hat back on his head, he pretended to reach for the cup of coins on the table. The man lunged forward.

"Get out!" he exclaimed. Grabbing the Doctor, he shoved him out of the tent. He slid across the ice and collided with one of the acrobats.

"Oh! In theory! I could steal anything in theory!" he amended, adjusting his hat on his head.

"Doctor," Bill said.

He made his way over to her.

"Honestly, some people," he sighed. Then he held up one of his pilfered pies. "More pie?"

She grinned and he slipped past her.

"Are there side-effects to time travel?" she asked. "Like, physical symptoms?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Sometimes you see lights under the ice," he teased. Then he grinned and started off again.

Bill rolled her eyes. "Okay, so you've seen the lights."

"Of course."

"Well, why didn't you say something?"

"Well, you're enjoying yourself," he explained. "I assumed we'd get to work eventually. Now, are these lights electric or organic?"

"Organic lights?" Bill asked.

"Bioluminescence," he clarified. "Fireflies, glow-worms."

A voice interrupted them. "Please, sir. Have you seen my dog?" The turned to see who was speaking. A dark-skinned girl stood before them, holding up a large collar and a leash. "He was right here, but then I looked away and he . . ."

"It's okay, we'll help," Bill offered. "Um, what does he look like?"

"He's small and brown and ever so soft," she described.

The Doctor eyed her critically.

"Are you sure of that? That collar's for a big dog. With long white hair," he pointed out. "Nice con, though. Respect."

Suddenly, he felt a hand pulling his screwdriver from his pocket. He spun around and grabbed the boy's wrist. They struggled for a moment. Then the Doctor let go with a gasp as the girl kicked him in the shin.

"Run!" she shouted and they took off in different directions.

"Ah!" the Doctor gasped. He and Bill started off after the boy. His red hat was easy to spot, but a troupe of acrobats got in their way. By the time they got past them, the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"What happened to the girl?" the Doctor demanded.

"Does it matter? The boy's the one with your magic wand," Bill reminded him.

"Sonic screwdriver," he corrected.

"How is that a screwdriver?"

"In a very broad sense."

"All right, how's it sonic?"

"It makes a noise," he pointed out. He looked up and spotted the two kids coming out of a tent. "There they are!"

He and Bill started off after them. They came out onto a clear section of ice. The boy had stopped and was looking at his feet. Green lights were circling him. The girl was calling to him.

"Spider! Spider, quick!"

"The lights," the Doctor breathed. "He's seen the lights."

He ran towards the boy as the lights began spinning around him. Bill was close on his heels.

"Kitty?" Spider called. Then he let out a scream as he suddenly fell through the ice. All that was left was his right arm, holding the screwdriver aloft.

"Stay back!" the Doctor called to the girl.

The green lights began swirling around the arm and it slowly began to sink. The Doctor edged forward and dove down, trying to grab the boy's arm. Spider's hand slipped from his grasp, leaving him with just the sonic screwdriver. He let out a long breath as the hole in the ice closed.

Getting to his feet, he examined the screwdriver, blowing on it to get rid of a bit of ice. He didn't want to look at his daughter just then. He could already picture the look of horror on her face. When he finally looked at her, she was staring up at him.

"Save him," she demanded.

"I can't. He's gone."

Bill approached him with a dark look on her face. "Do something and save him," she insisted.

The Doctor looked away and noticed the girl still standing there and staring at them. "I'm sorry about your friend, but the danger isn't over yet. There must be more of you living rough here. Tell me where," he requested.

"So, you can take us to the Magistrate?"

She turned to run so he moved to catch her by the arm.

"No, of course not. We're not here to arrest you, we're here to help. And if you show me where you live, we can do that," he promised.

"We? She's gone!" Kitty said.

The Doctor looked up. Sure enough, his daughter was nowhere to be found. He felt the girl slip from his grasp and turned to see her vanish into the fog. Letting out an exasperated breath, he turned back to go in search of his daughter. It only took a few minutes for him to spot her sitting in an out of the way corner. He approached her slowly and she looked up at him. She quickly looked away.

"How did you find me?"

"Get used to that question," he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Oh, clever. Yeah, very clever," she said sarcastically.

He sighed and pulled his hat off. Running a hand over his face, he asked, "What's wrong?" He knew the answer, of course, but he didn't know a better way to bring it up. Being a father was hard enough without the added difficulty of having to pretend he wasn't her father.

She turned to look at him with a face of disgust. "What's wrong? Seriously, what's wrong?" she demanded. "I've never seen anyone die before."

"A few hours ago, we were standing in a garden full of dead people," he reminded her. He had been about to point out that she had seen people die before, but thankfully he had remembered that she didn't know about that anymore.

"It was different."

"How?" he asked.

"They were dead already," she argued.

"Morally and practically, that is not a useful distinction. Unlearn it," he said.

"Don't tell me what to think," she snapped, getting to her feet.

"I'm your f-- your teacher. Telling you things is what I do."

He winced at his slip but Bill hadn't seemed to notice it. She was still too upset.

She rounded on him. "Yeah? Tell me this. You've seen people die before, yeah?"

"Of course."

"You still care?"

"Of course I care," he answered honestly.

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"If you care so much, tell me how many people you've seen die?" Bill insisted.

He frowned. It wasn't something he had ever counted. Besides, the number was far too big to remember. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Okay." Bill must have guessed why he didn't know because she asked, "How many before you lost count?"

"I care, Bill, but I move on," he explained.

"Yeah? How quickly?" she demanded.

"It's not me you're angry with," he pointed out.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" she asked quickly. "There's a look in your eyes sometimes that makes me wonder. Have you?"

He hesitated. Before she had become human, she had known the answer to the question and it hadn't really bothered her. But now, the way she was staring at him, waiting for a response, cut through his hearts.

"There are situations when the options available are limited," he started.

"Not what I asked," she interrupted.

He tried again. "Sometimes the choices are very--"

"That's not what I asked!"

He studied her for a moment, offering her a sad smile. "Yes," he admitted.

The look on her face was worse than the one before.

"How many?"

He didn't reply. He wasn't even sure himself. But he knew he would have to say something to assure her. He wasn't a murderer. He hadn't killed those people willingly.

"Don't tell me. You've moved on," she mocked.

He remembered having similar conversations with other companions, but Bill's disapproval hurt worse than any of the others'.

"You know what happens if I don't move on? More people die," he explained. She was still looking at him with fear in her eyes. "There are kids living rough near here. They may well be next on the menu. Do you want to help me? Do you want to stand here stamping your foot? Because let me tell you something. I'm two thousand years old, and I have never had the time for the luxury of outrage."

She frowned at him. Then her gaze shifted to something behind him. He turned to find Kitty standing there watching them.

"What do you mean, 'on the menu?'" she asked.

The Doctor looked pointedly at his daughter before turning back to the girl.

"Show me where the rest of you are," he requested.

She hesitated before nodding once. "Follow me."

She turned and led them off the ice. They followed her through the streets until they reached a building that was all but falling apart.

"Is this where you live?" Bill asked as they ducked into the dark space.

"For now," the girl replied.

"But there's no one here."

"Good work," Kitty called.

At the sound of those words, several children emerged from hiding places all over the room.

"Except you, Dot. I can see your shoes," Kitty scolded.

"They're too big, that's why," a small voice protested. A young girl emerged and the Doctor recognised her as the one who had given Bill the flyer. She was even still wearing his top hat.

"Oh, I see!" he laughed. "I get it. You lure people to the fair and then you rob them. Very good. Very enterprising."

He pulled off his hat and Dot ran to hide her face in Kitty's shawl.

"They're alright, Dot," she assured her. "Strange. But alright. And that's not how it is."

"Oh, what? You don't rob people?" he asked sarcastically.

"Course we do. But bringing people to the fair, that's by-the-by. On the side, like."

He turned back to her from examining the house. "Why?"

"Why? For coin, of course. Why else?"

"Someone pays you to promote the fair? Get people onto the ice?"

Kitty nodded. He stepped forward.

"Who? Who pays you?"

"Kitty, where's Spider?" another girl asked.

"Spider is . . . He . . ." Kitty stammered. The Doctor decided to come to her rescue.

"Who's hungry?" he announced. "I'm hungry. Food! Bill, food! Food is always useful." He hurried over to her and pulled off his hat. Then he produced a fish pie from inside it.

"Uh, yeah," she agreed. He began handing a pie to each of the children.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, but don't worry. These are stolen!" He grinned at the kids and put his hat back on. "Well, eat up." He noticed the kids looking at Kitty. "Ah, with your permission, of course."

Kitty nodded so they began to eat. The Doctor glanced at Bill and was glad to see she was smiling.

With the help of a few of the kids, he managed to start a fire. Then he pulled out a book and the children gathered around him as he began to read.

He saw Bill talking to Kitty. He could only hear snatches of their conversation, but he caught Kitty's question.

"Are you still fighting now?"

Watching them out of the corner of his eye, he waited for her response.

"No," she said thoughtfully. "I moved on."

He glanced up at her and offered her a smile when she turned to look at him. She stuck out her tongue. He turned back to the three kids in front of him.

"Okay, I'm wondering why the Frost Fair's on this part of the river. I bet that at least one of you knows who paid Kitty to take people out on the ice."

"It was a bad man, with a ship," Dot said.

"Dottie!" the other girl, Harriet, scolded.

"A ship? What, do you mean a merchant?" he asked.

"Not that kind of ship," the boy said.

"Perry!" Harriet called.

"What?" he protested.

"It's all right. You can tell him," Kitty said, kneeling between them.

"It's a drawing," Dot explained. "Here. On his hand." She pointed to the back of her hand to demonstrate.

Bill crouched beside the Doctor.

"So, this guy, where would we find him?" she asked.

"He finds us," Harriet replied.

"But a tattoo on his hand, I mean, we could ask around?" Bill suggested.

The Doctor grinned at her before declaring. "Boring!" He closed the book and got to his feet. "I know something that's much easier to find."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Ignoring her question, he turned to the kids. "All right. You guys, hang tight! Laters." He and Bill started off. He turned to her. "I was being all 'down with the kids' there, did you notice?"

"Yeah, my hair was cringing," she said.

He grinned. It had been a long time since he had last been able to embarrass her like this. "Awesome," he teased.

"Please stop," she begged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please consider leaving a comment, telling me what you think!
> 
> This is the first episode where I've begun changing the dialogue to suit my purpose, but I'm not doing it too much yet.


	13. Thin Ice Part 3

As they made their way along the darkening street, Bill asked, “So, what's easier to find?”

“Conjecture. There's something frozen under the Thames and it's eating people,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Proposal. We need to get a closer look at it.”

“Good, yeah,” she agreed.

“Plan. Let's get eaten.”

He grinned at her as she stared at him in shock. He continued on to the TARDIS.

“Wha--” Bill called after him before following.

The Doctor quickly located a couple of diving suits that were approximately period-appropriate. After acquiring a cart, he loaded everything onto it so that he and his daughter could wheel everything down to an empty section of the river.

“Is this stuff safe?” she asked.

“Potentially,” he responded.

“Potentially? What does potentially mean?”

“Safe, with a frisson of excitement,” he explained, handing her a diving helmet. Then he set his lantern at the top of the steps.

“Right, but we're not going to be like completely defenceless down there, though?” she asked.

“No, no, no, no,” he said as he began unloading the cart. “Well yes. But don't worry about it.”

“Why not? What have you got up your sleeve?” She gasped. “Oh, my God! Have you been holding out on me? Do you have, like, magical, alien powers?”

He huffed on the diving helmet and polished the faceplate, giving his daughter a disapproving look.

“What, was that an impolite question?” she asked.

_Not impolite. Just a bit stupid_ , he thought, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he busied himself setting everything up. Then he began helping his daughter into her suit. A few minutes later, they were walking out onto the empty ice. Night had fallen so they each held a lantern.

“Why do we need diving suits on top of the ice?” Bill asked.

“If we're lucky, the lights will come and take us under,” he explained. “Whatever they are, they're clever. When they went after the boy, they waited until he was away from the crowds, by himself.”

The Doctor walked across the ice, studying it in the hopes of seeing the green lights. He thought he heard Bill say something but he couldn’t make out the words.

“The question is, how?” he went on.

He continued studying the ice until he felt something hit his shoulder. He spun around just in time to see Bill disappear under the ice. Her air hose was uncoiling rapidly.

“Bingo!” he shouted. He ran towards the hole, jumping into it just as it was about to close. He sank to the bottom of the river. Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he activated it. It lit up like a torch. Turning, he saw Bill waving at him and mouthing his name. He waved back and she pointed up at something above them. Several large fish were swimming in a circle around their air hoses.

They turned quickly as a loud growl reached their ears. It reverberated through the water and the Doctor felt the noise with his whole body. Pointing the screwdriver around, he illuminated heavy chains holding down a massive creature. It shifted, straining at the chains and the ground shook beneath them. Opening its mouth, it let out a roar. Several bits and pieces floated out, including a red hat which Bill caught and showed the Doctor. He recognised it as Spider’s.

The creature continued to sing its mournful song. A giant eye opened and stared at them. The Doctor moved closer to look at it. Then he caught Bill by the wrist and led her away.

Spotting a hole in the ice near the bank, he pulled himself out of it before turning to help Bill climb out onto the ice. Pulling his helmet off, he gulped in a breath of fresh air. Then he saw a familiar man scrambling to his feet and beating a hasty retreat.

“What? I know you! You're the cheat! I love your work!” he called after him. He moved to set his helmet on the steps.

“The sound it made. I couldn't hear you, but that noise . . .” Bill said. “t's like I felt it in my bones, you know? It sounded like . . . like . . .”

“Despair,” he filled in “Loneliness. A prisoner in chains.” He knew how the creature felt. He had felt the same way many times in his life. Most recently was when he had lost his family.

Bill spotted the basket of fish that the cheat had knocked over in his haste to get away. “That guy. He said he caught the fish himself. I bought pie off that guy. Fish pie!”

The Doctor bent over to pick up one of the fish.

“Oh, hello!” He held the fish up to examine it. At first glance, it looked like an angler fish. “Aren't they magnificent?”

“I ate that pie. I liked that pie,” Bill said. She sounded a bit horrified.

The Doctor stuck his fingers in the fish’s mouth to feel the teeth. “Definitely not carnivores,” he observed. “Which means you're cooperating with the creature, providing for it. What do you get in return, hmm? What did it take for you to evolve into that?” He held the fish up for his daughter to see.

“The creature, do you reckon that's what's making London so cold?” she asked.

“Very possibly.”

“What kind of alien messes with the weather?”

“Ha, ha! You assume it's alien,” he laughed as he climbed the steps to get off the ice.

“Of course it's alien.”

“Alien, terrestrial . . . It's irrelevant. The real question is, who's keeping it in those chains? And perhaps our friend here can answer that.”

He turned to look at the cheat who was peering at them from behind a barrel. He slowly got to his feet.

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” he stammered.

“The coin trick. Just tell me how to do it, please!” the Doctor begged. He turned to see Bill giving him an exasperated look. “Okay. Not the time. Have you ever seen a man around here with a tattoo of a ship?” The man shifted and gave him a blank look. “What's that face? Is that a no or are you against tattoos? I'm against tattoos, too, I think that we are bonding.”

“We're stood by the docks, and you just asked me if I've ever seen a man with a tattoo of a ship,” the man clarified.

“Exactly.”

“Fair point,” Bill said.

He turned to look at her. “What point?”

“Look, forget the tattoos,” she said to the cheat. “Have you seen anyone acting suspiciously since the freeze?”

He considered for a moment before saying, “Well, there's the dredgers.”

“The dredgers?” she asked.

“There's a workhouse upriver,” he explained. “They have men out there patrolling all hours.”

The next morning, the Doctor and Bill crept up to a spiked wall and peered into the yard. People were busy pulling something from the river. They appeared to be packing whatever it was into rectangular bricks.

“What are they dredging for?” Bill asked.

“Let's find out,” he suggested.

They heard a shout so they quickly ducked back behind the wall.

“How are we getting in?”

Pulling the psychic paper out of his pocket, he showed it to her. Her eyes widened.

“You work for the palace?”

“Haven't heard that one in a while,” he observed. He tucked the paper away and motioned for Bill to follow him. They made their way to a locked gate which he sonicked open and they slipped inside. They heard a voice call out to them before they had gone more than a few feet.

“Stop right there!”

They turned to see a man holding a pistol.

“Ah, yes. Sorry. We were just--” The Doctor started, pulling out the psychic paper.

“Shut it,” the man commanded. He motioned for them to start walking.

They did so and they made their way through the busy yard.

A man spotted them and came forward. “Oi. How'd you get through here?” he demanded.

“Ah-ha! At last, someone in authority,” the Doctor said. He held up the psychic paper.

“Oh, I do apologise, sir,’ the man stuttered. “Does Lord Sutcliffe know you're here?”

“Does Lord Sutcliffe know we're here,” the Doctor scoffed, tucking the psychic paper away. Then he frowned and turned to Bill. “Does Lord Sutcliffe know we're here?”

“Lord Sutcliffe insisted we come,” she stammered.

“Hmm. Oh, that Lord Sutcliffe, yes. There's no arguing with Sutcliffe when he puts his foot down. You'd better show us around.”

“Follow me, sir,” the man panted.

He led them further into the yard. The Doctor examined the workers. All of them had a kerchief tied over their mouth and nose and were busy packing the thick, dark mud into brick moulds. His keen sense of smell caught a whiff of the odour coming from the mud and he suddenly understood what it was.

_But why are they gathering it?_ he wondered.

“Why all the fuss? It's just mud from the river, isn't it?” Bill whispered.

“Mud is one word for it,” he said.

“Is this even the right place? The creature's almost a mile away.”

“The creature's head is almost a mile away,” he corrected. Bill picked up a brick and sniffed it before he could warn her not to. “I assume we're now at the other end.”

Turning back to their guide, he asked, “These men, why do we trust them?”

“Hired them all myself, sir,” he said.

“Ah. Why do I trust you?”

“Sir?”

“You understand how important this is, yes?” the Doctor said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s imperative that no one discovers where the stuff goes when it leaves here.”

“Oh, I know that, sir. We use unmarked carts,” he assured him.

“Are they ever followed?”

“Oh no, sir.”

“Have you checked this personally?” the Doctor asked.

“Oh yes, sir.”

“All the way to Hampton?”

“No, to the steel mill, sir,” the man said.

_Bingo_ , he thought, but out loud he said, “Hampton is code for the steel mill.”

“Code, sir?”

“Yes, we need to use code otherwise anyone could walk in here and get you blabbing like a fool,” he explained. _Like I just did._

“That's a good point, sir,” he said.

“Now, these men, what do they know of this material?” the Doctor asked, moving to point to the muck that was being packed into bricks.

“No more than I do, sir.”

“Yes, but you are someone who knows more than he tells.”

“I'm not one to speculate.”

“But you can't help it because you're a man of intelligence,” he said, shamelessly laying on the flattery. It produced the desired result.

“They won't let us smoke in here, so I assume it's fuel. Fuel for the furnaces, sir.”

“Excellent reasoning. Lord Sutcliffe appreciates an enquiring mind.” He glanced at his daughter. She nodded and smiled at the man.

“Well, I keep me ear to the ground, you know,” he laughed.

“And what is the ground saying these days?”

“That this stuff burns a thousand times longer than coal?”

The Doctor studied the bricks. “Very good.” He moved closer to the table. Bill followed him.

“Hotter, too. Hotter than they can measure,” he went on, obviously eager to please.

“Excellent! First class.”

“I'm right, aren't I, sir?” he beamed.

“Oh, there's no stopping you. You keep this up, you won't be working in this yard for very long,” he hinted.

“Oh, you think not?”

“I can almost guarantee it.”

The man chuckled proudly. “You know what else they say? They say it even burns underwater.”

“No sh--” Bill broke off when the Doctor nudged her.

They left the yard and he began asking around. It didn’t take long for him to find out where this Lord Sutcliffe lived and soon enough they were climbing the steps to his enormous house.

“So. This guy has a pet monster that turns people into fuel and we're just rocking up at his door?” Bill said.

“That's his door, this is us rocking,” he replied. He tugged on the doorbell. “If we're going to stop him, we need to know where he started.”

“Meaning?”

“Which planet,” he explained.

“Which planet?” she repeated.

The door opened to reveal a surly manservant. The Doctor held up his psychic paper.

They were ushered into a sitting room where they were instructed to wait as he took the psychic paper to Lord Sutcliffe. The Doctor wandered over to the large orrery and began adjusting the planets and their satellites to match the position they really were in at that time.

“So, you think Sutcliffe is an alien?” Bill asked.

“Possibly.”

“Because the creature is an alien.”

“It certainly appears to be producing fuel suitable for interstellar travel,” he explained, pushing one of the planets so that it made a full revolution. He stopped it and studied his daughter. “Either way, Bill . . .” He moved to stand by her. “I need you to leave the talking to me.”

“Why?”

“Because you have a temper,” he said. It was the one quality that had annoyed him most when she was growing up. She hadn’t lost her temper often, but when she did lose it, she _really_ lost it. River blamed him for it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Oh okay, well, I lost it a tiny bit,” Bill stammered.

“You're about to meet a man, alien or otherwise, for whom human beings are raw material. Who grinds up children for profit. What we are here for is one thing. Information. We get that with diplomacy and tact. Charm, if necessary.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I get it.” She moved over to an armchair and dropped into it.

“Always remember, Bill. Passion fights, but reason wins.”

She rolled her eyes again just as the door opened. The Doctor turned to see a young man in a brilliant blue coat enter the room.

“Doctor Disco, from the Fairford Club!” he greeted. “Obviously, one aspires to membership, but to actually be considered for--” He broke off at the sight of Bill relaxing in the armchair. “Who-- Who let this creature in here? On your feet, girl, in the presence of your betters.”

Bill looked up at him in disgust and the Doctor forgot everything he had just told her. Turning humans into profit was one thing, but no one insulted his daughter. Tapping the man on the shoulder, he waited for him to turn before punching him in the face with all his strength.

Bill jumped to her feet as Lord Sutcliffe fell to the ground.

“He's human,” the Doctor declared, rubbing his sore knuckles. “Thirty-one years of age. Low in iron.”

“Yeah, that was pretty convincing racism for an extra-terrestrial,” she observed.

“My thoughts exactly.”

Two men came into the room, pausing to take in what had happened.

“Oh, hello. Ah, can I just say, this is very unlike me,” the Doctor stammered. “I-I don't normally do this.”

“Er, yeah, he was aiming for charming,” Bill put in.

“Basically.”

The men grabbed them and tied their hands behind their backs. The Doctor winced as the rope was knotted around his wrists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please consider leaving a comment telling me what you think!
> 
> "Thin Ice" is one of my favourite episodes of Series 10 so it was so much fun to write.


	14. Thin Ice Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start I think I need to address something. I've had a couple of comments asking when I'm going to make this into an AU and, while I intend to do that by the end of the book, I suppose I wasn't very clear with what my plan going into this was. As I said in the description of the book, this is an AU rewrite of Series 10. I had intended to rewrite every episode as I've been doing, changing details and dialogue and adding descriptions as if Bill was the Doctor's daughter. 
> 
> I realised that "Twice Upon a Time" wouldn't work well for my story so I'll be writing something different for that and I think it's something you'll enjoy. Also, since I have no intention of killing Bill off, "World Enough and Time" and "The Doctor Falls" will be changed a lot more than the other episodes. However, until that point, I intend to stick mostly to the script, quite literally. At some point, I will be adding Bill's point of view as she begins to get suspicious about certain things and then more lines may begin to change.
> 
> I've considered scrapping a few more chapters and getting to the AU sooner since that's what some people seem to want me to do, but the fact is that I'm mainly writing this for myself so I can see how the idea of Bill being the Doctor's daughter fits into each episode. Also, I have all the flashbacks planned for in between each episode and I really can't afford to cut any of them.
> 
> If you aren't interested in reading all the Series 10 episodes with only a few changes and added details, then you don't have to read this book. I understand that it might be a bit tedious. The main point of it is that I wanted to write it and I figured I might as well share it while I'm at it. If you do decide to keep reading, then you're more than welcome too and thank you very much. 
> 
> I'd also love to give a big thank you to those few who have been responding pretty regularly. Your comments mean a lot to me, no matter how short they are.
> 
> Now, onto the story.

“Well, you're not from the Fairford Club,” Lord Sutcliffe observed. He had recovered from the Doctor’s attack and had been given some ice wrapped in a cloth which he was pressing to his face where a bruise was starting to form.

“The creature in the river, where did it come from?” the Doctor demanded.

“Who the devil are you people?”

“Where did it come from?” he repeated.

“Nowhere! It's always been there,” Sutcliffe said. “The secret's been passed down in the family since, I don't know when. As far back as records go.”

“Then tell me, do you also keep a record of how many it's killed?” he asked. He saw Bill glance at him.

“Please. People know the ice is dangerous, yet they will insist on their festivities. That's hardly my fault.”

“Don't sell yourself short,” the Doctor scoffed. “This is the biggest Frost Fair in decades. That's down to you.”

“It is?” Bill asked.

“The man holding me has a tattoo on his left hand,” he informed her. “And that's not all, is it? The circus performers, the elephant, that's all you.”

“I made the most of the situation,” he said slowly. “It's the first proper freeze it's caused in years.”

“Why? Production down, huh? Not enough people dying?” Bill said.

“Girl, you show the ignorance of all your kind.”

The Doctor saw Bill react and he had to keep himself from lunging forward and strangling the man himself.

Sutcliffe went on. “Without that beast, my mills would rely on coal mines, and men die in coal mines all the time.”

“I preferred it when you were alien,” the Doctor mused.

Sutcliffe looked at him curiously. “When I was . . .”

“Well, that explained the lack of humanity,” he explained. “What makes you so sure that your life is worth more than those people out there on the ice? Is it the money? The accident of birth that puts you inside the big, fancy house?”

“I help move this country forward. I move this Empire forward,” Sutcliffe declared, slowly eating a grape.

“Human progress isn't measured by industry. It's measured by the value you place on a life. An unimportant life. A life without privilege. The boy who died on the river, that boy's value is your value. That's what defines an age. That's what defines a species.”

The Doctor could feel his daughter’s eyes on him but he kept staring at the man in the chair.

“What a beautiful speech. The rhythm and, and vocabulary, quite outstanding. It's enough to move anyone with an ounce of compassion,” Sutcliffe declared, getting to his feet. Then he rounded on the Doctor. “So, it's really not your day, is it? If they know about the beast, then others must, too. We bring the plan forward.”

“When, sir?” the tattoo man asked.

“Now! In daylight.”

One of the henchmen dragged them out of the house and shoved them into a waiting carriage. The other man pulled the blinds down so that no one could see in . . . and they couldn’t see out. The Doctor and Bill were seated back to back as the coachman whipped the horses into action.

“No time for outrage,” Bill scoffed. “You've never had time for anything else, right?”

“Don't be smug,” he replied. “Smug belongs to me.” The reference to something River had told her when she was very young brought a small smile to his lips, he only wished she could remember it.

“Are you really two thousand years old?” she asked.

He paused. “Why?” he asked suspiciously. He fully expected her to tease him about that fact.

“I just wanted to know how long it takes before you can make a speech like the one you just made. It was worth the wait,” she said.

He smiled but only slightly. He had realised that he was the one who had managed to get them into trouble again and had put his daughter into danger again after having promised his wife he’d protect her.

_It’s not like I ever did anything to protect her_ , he thought bitterly. _I left her on Gallifrey a few days after River left and then made her human and dropped her off on Earth when she_ really _needed me to protect her._

He found one of her small, gloved hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. She squeezed his hand back before he let go. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

A few long minutes later, the carriage pulled to a stop. The door on Bill’s side opened.

“Come on. Out,” the man growled.

Bill climbed out of the carriage and the Doctor followed after her. The man grabbed them both and shoved them into a tent. It was filled with barrels that were all wired up to a panel attached to the central support of the tent.

“Get in there! Sit down and shut up,” he barked, pushing the Doctor to the ground against the pole.

“Could be rum,” Bill said hopefully. “Rum came in barrels.”

She was also pushed against the pole.

“Smell that.” The Doctor sniffed as he slid down the pole to sit on the ground. “It's their home-made rocket fuel, redeployed as explosive.” He looked up at Sutcliffe. “It's a little reckless, don't you think? Half the fair disappears into the river, the secret of your success won't be a secret any more.”

“Hardly. The city will pause to mourn a fireworks display gone tragically awry, and the creature will be fed. By spring, this will be a footnote in history. That is progress,” he declared. “They're bringing the elephant out presently. We won't get bigger crowds than that, so make sure you're off the ice by noon.”

“Noon? There's no way you can keep us here that long. We'll just scream our heads off.”

“Bill, no, please, please, please . . .” the Doctor begged. He knew no one would be able to hear them, they were all making enough noise to drown out an explosion, and he had had enough of Bill screaming in his ears when she had been younger.

But she started screaming “Help!” anyway. The henchman shook his head and left the tent. Bill only stopped when she ran out of air. Then she started coughing.

“If you're quite finished, I could use some help,” he said, shifting so he could get his screwdriver into a good position.

She looked at him curiously. “What are you--”

“Sonic screwdriver. Inside pocket,” he explained.

“Oh, okay.”

They managed to shift into a position where Bill could nudge the screwdriver and after a couple of tries, it flew out of his pocket and slid a few feet. She reached out with her foot and kicked it towards him. He couldn’t quite reach it.

“Can you--”

She kicked it again and he was able to pick it up.

“Yes, yes.”

He slid the button up to activate it and turned it around free his wrists.

“Um, Doctor?” Bill called.

“Huh?” He followed her gaze and saw the green light coming towards them under the ice. “Oh, hello!”

“How are you doing that?”

“Er-- Uh--” he stammered, not quite sure himself. Then he realised, “Sonic screwdriver. It makes a noise. That's how the fish choose a victim. That's how they know they've isolated someone on the ice.”

“Erm, better question. Why are you doing that?” Bill asked. The light had been joined by several others.

“Just-- Just a little more,” he grunted.

Just as he managed to free his wrists, several more lights entered the tent. They were followed by the henchman.

“What are you-- Give me that!” he said, snatching the screwdriver from the Doctor’s hand. The lights began to circle his feet. He backed into a corner but they followed him.

“What the--”

“Turn it off. There's a button on the side,” the Doctor called.

The man began to search for it but the lights had begun swirling around his feet.

“Here! Give it here!” the Doctor shouted, raising his hand. The man tossed it to him before vanishing through the ice. He turned it off and commented, “Afraid it has a knack to it.”

He got to his feet and began examining the panel. Then he noticed his daughter staring at the closing hole. “Bill?” he called. “Miss Potts, I need you with me.”

“I-- I--” she stammered.

“Things to do, Bill. Decisions to make.” He wished he could comfort her but they really didn’t have the time. “What are we going to do about Tiny?”

She turned and looked at him with a frown. “Tiny?”

“The creature. The Loch Ness monster. The not-so-little mermaid. Are we just going to leave her down there?”

“Well, we can't set her free. She could burst up out of the water and eat a hundred people right off of Southbank!” Bill exclaimed. “She could eat half of London!”

“She might. It's a risk,” he agreed. “So, what do you want to do, Bill?”

“Well, you already know the answers. Why are you even asking?” she demanded, turning away from him.

“I don't know the answers. Only idiots know the answers. But if your future was built on the suffering of that creature, what would your future be worth?”

She glanced at him. “Why is it up to me?” she asked.

“Because it can't always be up to me. Remember what happened last time? I nearly killed everyone. That’s what happens when I make all the decisions. I make mistakes. Now, it’s time for you to choose. So, tell me what we’re going to do. Not long till noon. I need you to choose.”

Bill was quiet. He felt guilty for having pushed her like this, but he wanted her to learn. Eventually, she turned to look at him, but she still didn’t reply. Then, the mournful song of the creature reached their ears.

“Save her,” Bill whispered.

He felt a smile tug at his lips and pride swelled in his hearts. He still wasn’t convinced it was the right decision but he wasn’t about to leave an innocent creature to suffer and was glad to see his daughter felt the same way. “I'll take care of this,” he said, moving to the panel. “You get everyone off the ice.”

She ran out to do as she was told. He began fiddling with the wires. Suddenly, a better idea occurred to him.

After using the rope they had been tied up with to tie all the barrels together, he darted out of the tent and ran to where they had dumped their diving gear. He quickly pulled on his diving suit. Then he went back into the tent and connected the wire that led to the detonator to his sonic screwdriver. He hung it from the roof of the tent and activated it so that when the explosives were detonated, the screwdriver would send a pulse to the barrels and blow them up, even though they were no longer connected to anything.

The lights appeared and began circling around his feet. He jumped out of the way just as a hole appeared and quickly shoved the barrels into it before jumping in himself. He made his way along the length of the creature, positioning a barrel at the base of each of the chains. When he reached the end, he located the ladder that led up into the workhouse. As he climbed it, he heard the distant explosions below him. Reaching the top of the ladder, he pulled his helmet off and gulped in a deep breath of air.

He hurried back to the fair and quickly located the detonator. Then he heard his daughter’s voice.

“Doctor! Doctor!”

“Bill!” he shouted. Dropping the wires he had picked up, he moved to where he could reach her better. She was running across the ice, but it had all cracked at the base of the stairs. “Bill!”

She was running towards him, barely keeping ahead of the cracks.

“You did it! She's free!” she exclaimed.

He reached out to her and she jumped for his hand. He grabbed hold of her and pulled her up as the ice cracked beneath her. He managed to get her onto the platform and resisted the urge to pull her into a tight hug. Instead, he offered her a smile and turned back to the wires he had dropped. Picking them up, he began pulling on them.

Bill was watching the creature.

“Go!” she breathed. “Where will she go?”

“Somewhere cold, I imagine,” he replied. “Hopefully, she's smart enough to avoid people now.”

“Yeah-- What if she isn't?” she asked. “What if we just like, doomed Greenland?”

“I'll check in on Greenland,” he promised. He finally reached the end of the wire, pulling his screwdriver up with it. Then he carefully detached the two.

They watched as the creature continued past.

“How long is she?” Bill exclaimed.

The creature flicked her fin and sent a wave of water splashing over them.

“Ah,” Bill shivered. She shook herself with a chuckle.

The creature raised her head above the water for a moment, singing a long, cheerful note.

“Can you hear that?” Bill breathed.

The Doctor offered her a small smile. “So, back to the TARDIS?”

She hesitated. “Doctor, there’s one more thing I want to do,” she said slowly.

“And what is it?” he asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

“Those children,” she said. “Is there anything we can do for them.”

“No, no. There’s nothing we can do,” he said, shaking his head. Bill looked crestfallen so he quickly added, “But I believe Lord Sutcliffe must have made a will. I’m sure we can arrange for everything he owns to have been left to his long lost heir.”

He grinned as Bill’s face lit up.

“Come on, then,” he chuckled.

The Doctor was sitting at a small table in the dining room, frowning in concentration as he carefully used a gold letter opener to scrape away the name written in the will. He glanced up briefly as Bill led the four children into the room.

“Go on. Eat as much as you like,” she instructed.

They rushed over to the table and began eating.

“Er, you, boy!” he called. “Remind me, what's your name?”

The boy mumbled something but his mouth was full of food so the Doctor couldn’t make out the words. He frowned slightly.

“Perry,” Kitty said. “His name's Perry. Why?”

The Doctor glanced at Bill who grinned and said, “Apparently, Lord Sutcliffe's long-lost heir can't be a girl.”

Picking up the pen, he carefully inked in the name “Peregrine”, perfectly matching the handwriting in the rest of the will.

Having said their goodbyes, Bill and the Doctor made their way back to the TARDIS. He programmed in the coordinates for his office and they dematerialised.

“We must have changed something, right?” Bill said as they stepped out of the ship and into his office. “I mean, people saw a monster in the Thames.”

He followed her out of the TARDIS.

“Well, it doesn't look any different,” she observed.

Closing the door behind him, he let out a sigh and made his way over to his desk. He picked up a few papers and flipped through them.

Nardole came into the room saying, “All right. There you go. There's your tea. I put a bit of coffee in it, as well, just to give it some flavour. See, it's much better when you stick to your oath.” He set the tray he was carrying on the desk and looked up. His face fell. “Oh, sir, no. This is unacceptable. This is beyond unacceptable. This is naughty.”

“Language,” the Doctor scolded.

“I don't get it,” Bill said. “London, 1814. Monster. Sea creature. Serpent. Really, really big fish. Nothing.”

He glanced at her.

“Sir, you said you wouldn't be going off-world,” Nardole protested.

“Do these look like off-world clothes to you?” the Doctor said, pulling open his coat to display the blue lining.

“But, sir, you said you'd be coming back to your office!”

“Look, here I am,” he sighed. “I'm in my office. I'm drinking my tea, in my specially chosen tea clothes.”

“I don't understand. How could it not have been headline news?” Bill asked.

“Never underestimate the collective human ability to overlook the inexplicable,” he explained. “Also, the Frost Fair involved a lot of day drinking. May I?” He stepped over to her and took her phone. Then he quickly located an article and handed it back to her. “You can always rely upon the papers to miss a headline.”

“‘Lord Sutcliffe drowns in snap thaw,’” Bill read. “‘Shock as steel fortune is passed to street urchin!’” She looked up at him with her big smile and he couldn’t help smiling back. He was sure he’d smiled more in the last twenty-four hours than he had in the last eighty years.

“Sir. We need to talk. Your oath,” Nardole insisted.

“Give us a coin,” the Doctor demanded.

“What?”

“‘The new Lord Sutcliffe was found starving on London's streets.’ The inheritance was contested, everyone got super mad, blah, blah, blah,” Bill said. “Urchin boy deemed legitimate.’ Oh my God, it worked! You did it. You saved them.”

The Doctor moved to stand by her, barely stopping short of pulling her into a hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You did,” he corrected. “I was your idea. You made that decision.”

“Sir,” Nardole said.

“Give me a coin,” the Doctor repeated. “We'll toss for it. Heads, the TARDIS stays put. Tails, you leave me alone.”

He looked up at Bill and offered her a smile. He suddenly realised that it didn’t matter so much that she didn’t know who he really was. The only thing that was really important was that she was there. He got to see her every day and he knew she was safe. He could still show her the universe and no one could try to hurt her just because she was _his_ daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a comment letting me know what you think! As I said at the beginning, even the shortest comments mean a lot. Even if it's just a smiley face, it lets me know that you're reading and enjoying.
> 
> Anyway, I'm now done with "Thin Ice" which is a pity since it was one of my favourite episodes from the Series. The next chapter will be another flashback, followed by the first part of "Knock Knock" which I'm, thankfully, almost done writing.
> 
> Anyway, I was supposed to be in bed half an hour ago, but I remembered I was going to publish this part today. Have a good morning/day/evening/night/whatever time it is that you're reading this. I'm going to bed.


	15. Child

_The Doctor watched River carefully as she worked on her hair and makeup. She had first mentioned feeling contractions a few hours before. He could tell each time she had one because she would wince or grit her teeth._

_“I wish you'd stop watching me,” she said presently. Her eyes met his in the mirror. “It's making me nervous.”_

_“Sorry. I can't help it,” he admitted._

_“I know.”_

_River leaned back in her chair, resting a hand on the swell of her stomach. The Doctor slipped off their bed and moved to stand behind his wife. His hands settled on her shoulders and he began to massage her gently. He leaned down to press a kiss to her temple._

_“I'm scared,” she whispered._

_Her voice was small and nervous and so very un-River-like that his hands stilled on her shoulders. He hadn't been expecting the confession. She had always been so brave. It was somewhat ironic that this strong woman, this woman who had defeated Cybermen and Daleks, who had dove off of buildings and made fun of Sontarans, who was never scared of anything, was terrified of the thought of having a child. But he didn't blame her._

_“I know,” he murmured. “I'm scared too. What if something happens to you? Or to the child? Or to both of you?”_

_He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it if anything happened to either of them. He knew that the fact that he had seen how River died didn't mean she couldn't die now. It was still a possibility and the consequences would be drastic. He closed his eyes against the thought of what would happen to the universe if she did die._

_He opened his eyes again just in time to see her grimace. He squeezed her shoulders to reassure her._

_“They're getting worse,” she muttered._

_“It's okay. It's going to be okay.”_

_“But what is it isn't?”_

_“Oh, River,” he sighed. “We can't think like that. We have to hope that everything will be fine. Besides, if we spend the whole time thinking about what could go wrong, when nothing does we'll have worried for nothing.”_

_She shifted in her chair so she could look up at him. He leaned down and kissed her._

_“We'll be okay,” he promised. “Just let me know when you're ready to go to the hospital.”_

_She nodded. “Soon.”_

_“Doctor, we should probably go now.”_

_The Doctor looked up at his wife. She was sitting on the couch, her gaze fixed on the space in front of her._

_“Right.”_

_Getting to his feet, he carefully picked her up. Her arms tightened around his neck and she buried her face in his neck. “You know, I can walk,” she muttered, but the way she clung to him let him know she didn't want to be put down._

_He carried her out of the flat and quickly made his way down to their car. He helped River climb into the passenger seat before slipping into the driver's seat and starting for the hospital._

_About half an hour later, River was lying on a hospital bed. The Doctor sat beside her, holding her hand and gently running his thumb over her knuckles._

_“How are you doing?” he asked._

_“Okay for now,” she replied. “Just nervous.”_

_“You'll be fine.”_

_“I hope so.”_

_“Oh, come on, Sweetie,” he laughed. “You've been through worse.”_

_“I'm suddenly not so sure about that,” she said through gritted teeth._

_A few hours later, the Doctor watched in awe as his wife was handed a tiny, screaming bundle. He wished he had thought of bringing something to capture the moment. He wanted to remember his wife like this. Her golden curls were mussed and framing her face like a halo, a few strands sticking to her damp skin. Her whole face seemed to glow and her eyes were bright as she gazed down at the child in her arms._

_Then she looked up and her eyes met his. He took a stumbling step towards them, drawn in by her gaze. He leaned over the bed to get his first good look at their daughter._

_The baby's eyes were squeezed shut, and her tiny mouth was opened in a loud cry, but the Doctor was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful. Her skin was toffee coloured and the little bit of hair on her head was black and curly._

_“Your daughter,” River managed. Her voice was hoarse and she sounded exhausted, but it was also full of joy and she was beaming up at him._

_He nodded wordlessly. His tongue felt permanently glued to the roof of his mouth. Reaching out, he gently rested a hand on his wife's arm._

_“We still haven't chosen a name,” she reminded him._

_He made a noise of agreement before finally finding his voice._

_“Looks like she took after your last regeneration,” he said. “Maybe we could call her Melody.”_

_“No. You still call me Melody sometimes,” River pointed out. “Besides, Melody Song is a bit redundant.”_

_“Then what do you suggest?”_

_“We could name her after my mother.”_

_“Hmm. Amelia Song. That sounds perfect.” He leaned closer to press a kiss to her temple. “But can her middle name be Melody?”_

_She thought for a moment before nodding. “I suppose so.”_

_“Amelia Melody Song,” he murmured. “She's beautiful.”_

_“Yes.”_

_He buried his nose in his wife's hair, bringing his mouth near his ear. “I love you, River,” he whispered._

_He pressed a kiss to her ear and she let out a breathless giggle. She turned her head so she could kiss him, her lips pulled into a grin against his._

______

_The Doctor woke to the sound of his daughter's persistent cries. He was getting used to being woken up at random times during the night, but he felt bad for his wife. She was exhausted and he wished she could get at least one good night's sleep._

_River stirred, mumbling something unintelligible._

_“It's okay, River,” he whispered. “I'll get her.”_

_“Are you sure?” she murmured. “What if--”_

_“I don't think she's hungry,” he assured her. “I think she just needs to be put back to sleep. I can do that.”_

_“If you say so,” she mumbled before rolling over and promptly falling asleep._

_Pushing the blankets away, he climbed out of bed and pulled on his hoodie. Then he quickly moved to the next room and made his way to the cot._

_“Hey there, little one,” he murmured. He gently picked her up, holding her close to his chest. “You need to get back to sleep.”_

_“_ You're not Mum, _” she protested._

_“I know, but Mummy's very tired. We need to let her sleep. She does a lot for you all day, Amelia. She needs to rest.”_

_“_ I want Mummy. _”_

_“You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you,” he chuckled. He moved over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and took a seat._

_“_ Hungry, _” she insisted._

_“No, you're not. You just want me to wake your mother up. I'm not going to do it.”_

_He carefully shifted her so her belly was resting on his chest and her head on his shoulder. Then he pulled a blanket over them and began rocking her gently._

_“_ Stop. I don't want to sleep, _” she protested._

_He ignored her and continued rocking, mumbling the words to a Gallifreyan lullaby. Amelia's protests grew quieter and soon she was fast asleep. The Doctor was quick to follow._

_The next thing he was aware of was a hand resting on his shoulder and a gentle pressure on his head. Opening his eyes, he looked up to find his wife smiling down at him._

_“Good morning,” he mumbled._

_“I was going to be very cross with you for leaving me to wake up alone,” she teased. “But this sight is worth it.”_

_The Doctor looked down to see Amelia lying on his chest, one tiny fist gripping the fabric of his hoodie and the other halfway in her mouth._

_“I was going to come back,” he said. “I just fell asleep before I did.”_

_“It's alright.”_

_He ran a hand over his face before resting it on Amelia's back._

_“How did you sleep?” he asked._

_She smiled down at him. “Very well. Thank you for dealing with her last night.”_

_“You needed the rest.” He carefully got to his feet and crossed the room, gently laying his daughter back in her cot. Then he turned and pulled his wife into a hug. “She kept asking for you, but I told her to let you sleep. Eventually, I managed to get her to go back to sleep.”_

_“Well done.” She leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. “How long until you have to go to work?”_

_“It's a Saturday.”_

_“Is it?” She leaned forward, her nose brushing against his. “In that case, you and I can spend the day curled up on the couch. It's been a while since we've done that.”_

_“You know she'll wake up eventually,” he said, nodding towards the cot._

_“She can join us. It'll be our first chance to properly spend time as a family.”_

_“A family,” he repeated softly. His eyes fell on their daughter, still fast asleep in her cot. “I can still hardly believe we made a child. Four years ago I thought I would never see you again, yet here you are, and now our family has increased to three.”_

_“Thank you,” she said._

_He turned back to her. “For what?”_

_“For everything. For our time. For staying. For giving me the family I could only have dreamed of having.”_

_He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I only wish I could give you more.”_

_“I don't want more. I'm happier than I've ever been.”_

_“No, but you deserve so much more than I could ever give you.”_

_“This is enough,” she assured him. “More than enough.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Little baby Amelia Song!
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a comment telling me what you think!
> 
> Good news is, I've finished writing "Knock Knock" and kinda started work on "Oxygen" so I should be able to keep up a semi-regular posting schedule. . . . If I'm able to keep up with writing the flashbacks. I've got about two more written, but I need to write the rest of them quickly.


	16. Knock Knock Part 1

The Doctor pushed the lever up and started towards the door. A pile of boxes appeared by the console as the TARDIS materialised around them. He glanced at them with a frown before pulling the door open. Bill was waiting for him outside.

“That's all you've got?” he asked, pointing at the boxes. “I thought you'd have loads.”

“Thanks for helping, yeah?” she said, stepping past him.

He closed the door behind her and reached for a framed award in one of the boxes. He glanced at it with a smile.

“You should hire this out,” she observed, pulling herself up onto the console. “Like a removal service.”

“Removals?” He tossed the award back in the box and picked up the stuffed bear. It had been nearly a hundred years since he had seen it. They had bought it for her when she had still been too young to walk. “Bill, I'm a Time Lord.”

“Time Lord? What's that, your job?” she asked.

“No. It's, my, er . . . people, my species,” he explained.

He noticed she was wearing the necklace River had given to her. It was a green crystal hanging on a thin silver chain and she was almost always wearing it. He loved seeing her wearing it.

“Doesn't sound like a species. Sounds posh, like . . . ‘Yes, my lord.’ Doff my cap,” Bill said, pretending to do just that.

“Oh, well, that's why I gave it up. Ran away.”

“Time Lords. That's hilarious,” she laughed. “Do you wear robes and big hats?”

“No. Er, big collars mostly,” he said, gesturing with the bear. Then he realised he was still holding it and offered it to her.

She took it and asked, “Do you want the postcode?”

“Sorry?”

“To find the house,” she added.

“Bill, the Tardis uses multi-dimensional space-time coordinates,” he explained.

“So you know where it is.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment. “Okay, right, put the postcode in here,” he said, pointing.

Bill hopped of the console and moved around him. “Saw the bedroom,” she remarked. “Do you sleep here?”

“If I need to,” he said quickly. His bedroom was one of the places he avoided. There were far too many memories in it. The only good thing was that it still smelled like River. _I only hope she didn’t see her own bedroom,_ he thought. “Done?”

“Yeah.”

He tugged on the lever and set the TARDIS in motion.

“‘If I need to?’” Bill echoed. “What does that mean?”

“Sleep's for tortoises,” he replied.

“Not ‘Time Lords’?” she said, making air quotes with her fingers.

“No! Unless we've regenerated or had a big lunch,” he explained.

“Regenerated?” she asked.

He hesitated. He had learned that it was easiest for him if he just treated Bill like one of his companions, but he knew he had to be careful. There were things she really should know too much about, and her own species was one of them. He decided it was best to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“Oh, the questions, the questions, the questions. Just remember ‘Time Lords’. That's enough for now.”

He knew his daughter was likely to complain about the lack of an answer, but thankfully the TARDIS landed before she could.

“Oh, here we are,” he observed.

She grinned. Picking up the bear from where she had set it, she dropped it in its box and picked the whole thing up. He followed after her and picked up another box and followed her out of the TARDIS. He rounded the corner to see her setting the box by a large iron gate, overgrown with ivy.

“Oh, I'll use the TARDIS, take it all to your room,” he offered.

“Firstly, I don't know which one my room is,” she pointed out. “And secondly, that's weird and I want to make a good impression.”

He was only half listening. He had spotted the house. Setting the box down, he stepped past her to get a better look at the house as she continued talking.

“It's cool, I'll just, er, get everything out of the TARDIS and then you can go. Thanks for the lift, though! Bye!”

The house was massive. It was made of stone and had a tall tower jutting out of the middle of it. There was ivy climbing the walls and the trees around the house creaked ominously.

_Something’s wrong_.

He turned to look at his daughter. “That's your house?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder at the building with his thumb.

“Sharing, yeah. Six of us, renting,” she said, moving to join him by the gates.

“I thought you were students?”

“Yeah. I was like, ‘What's the catch?’ but, actually, it's fine. Just a bit draughty.”

He frowned. “Draughty?”

He glanced at the trees again. They were swaying, as if in a breeze. Wetting his finger, he held it up.

_Nothing._

“I meant draughty inside,” Bill said. She had picked up the box he had been carrying.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “I'll help you in.”

He stepped around her and picked up the box she had left on the ground as she protested.

“No, no, no. It's fine. You really don't have to. It's not--”

“Really not a problem,” he assured her as he hurried towards the house.

“No, wait, honestly. Um, if you just, er-- If you just go and do history or whatever,” she called after him.

He ignored her.

A few minutes later, they had gotten all of her stuff out of the TARDIS and deposited it in the hall. As they were bringing in the last boxes, a young woman came out of a room.

“Hey! Where have you been?” she said. “I thought--” She broke off when she saw him. “Ah! You're the Doctor.”

“Yes. Hi. Can I get past?”

“Er yes, he's just helping with the move,” Bill said quickly.

“Helping?” the woman asked.

“He's just my--”

“Friend,” he supplied.

“Grandad,” she finished.

“Wait,” he protested. “I don't look old enough to be--”

“To hold that box for very long,” she interrupted, taking the box from his arms. She set it on the table. “There. Me.”

He moved further along the hall, scowling. What she had said didn’t make any sense, not to mention the fact that she thought he looked old enough to be her grandfather.

_I mean, I know I’m over two thousand, but I don’t look it._

Three more people came rushing down the stairs. The girl was exclaiming, “How exciting is this?”

“Oh, wow. Doctor. Legend,” the first boy said.

He held up his hand for a high five. The Doctor just looked at him.

“He's my grandad,” Bill said quickly.

“Aw, come on,” he said, turning to look at her. “Father, at least, please,” he begged. _Seeing as that’s the truth anyway._

“All right, grand _father_ ,” she laughed, moving to stand in front of him. “You really can go now, though. Thanks for the help.” She gave him two thumbs up. “Job done.”

He glanced up the stairs. He was itching to take a good look around -- to find out what was going on and make sure it was safe -- but he knew Bill wouldn’t let him. “Okay. Bye.” He offered her a smile and stepped past her, making his way down the hall.

“Bye,” she called after him.

He turned to look at her again. Then he glanced at everyone else and offered them a small smile before leaving.

As he made his way down the driveway, he turned to study the house once more. He had no intention of leaving. While he knew Bill was a grown-up now and could take care of herself, he had no intention of leaving her there until he was absolutely certain she was safe. Especially since he had a strong suspicion she wasn’t.

When he reached the TARDIS, he set it to scan for anything irregular. A few minutes later, the screen lit up. There was nothing. Letting out an annoyed growl, he hit the side of the monitor as if that would change the result.

  
The Doctor sighed and left the TARDIS, making his way back up to the large house. He walked around it, examining the structure and looking for a way in. Spotting the cellar doors, he sonicked them opened and climbed inside. He closed the doors behind him, plunging the room into darkness. Then he activated his screwdriver and it lit up like a torch. He held it in front of him as he progressed through the house.

The sonic screwdriver didn’t end up being any more help. The whole house seemed to be made of wood. Everywhere he turned, wood, wood, and more wood. He couldn’t even get any readings from it.

“Need a setting for wood,” he muttered as he tried to force open a door.

When he had finished the tour of the house and decided that it was a pretty rubbish place to live, he climbed out of the cellar doors. It had fallen dark. Making his way to the TARDIS, he located an oil-burning heater and went back to the house, entering the same way he had earlier.

He made his way through the cellar until he came to the door he suspected led into the kitchen. He tried to open it but it was locked and the sonic was of no use. As he continued trying to open it, he heard voices on the other side.

“Maybe it's just the central heating?” someone suggested.

A moment later, the door was flung open and the Doctor jumped. He clutched at his chest as something clattered to the ground. Bill rolled her eyes.

“There isn't any,” he informed them.

“I thought--” one of the girls started, but Bill interrupted her.

“He'd gone home. Me, too,” she said, glaring at him. “Isn't any what?”

“Central heating. I've been looking around, inside and out,” he explained, stepping past her and making his way through the kitchen. “Very interesting. Lots of wood.”

She followed him. “Er, why are you still here?” she demanded

“Do you know what that is?” he asked, holding up the lamp. “That's an oil-burning heater. You might need it.” He handed it to his daughter who handed it to the shorter of the two boys. “There's no washing machine either. The hob is from the ‘30s.”

“Thanks very much,” she said, but he kept talking.

“The power sockets will not take your devices.”

“Oh, I thought it was just my room,” one of the girls exclaimed.

“No, no, no. They're out of date--” He broke off. “What's that . . . smell? Is that Chinese food? I love Chinese.”

He started to leave the room but Bill caught him by the arm. “Doctor.” She lowered her voice so the others couldn’t hear. “There might be a few old things, but it just needs updating. It's not like there's some massive mystery going on.”

“Did you hear the trees creaking outside when we arrived?” he asked.

“Yeah. It was the wind,” she said.

“There wasn't any wind,” he informed her. She stared up at him so he turned to the others. “You should find another house.”

“Mmm, I don't think so,” one girl said.

“The rooms are really big,” the short boy pointed out.

“Exactly. And it's still the best place for the money,” the tall one added. “I'll just call the landlord, sort it out.” He left the kitchen.

“You can't. No reception,” the other girl reminded him.

“Okay, so I'll go down the hill,” he said, stopping abruptly. “Oh, hi.”

They followed him into the other room to find an old man standing there. He wore a brown suit that matched the wood-panelled walls perfectly.

“Didn't hear you come in,” the second girl said.

“For a man such as myself, discretion is second nature,” the man smiled as they all moved further into the room. “So, a gathering. You're all here. No, except one.”

“Pavel's upstairs,” the first girl explained.

“And one in addition,” the Landlord observed.

“He's the Doctor,” short boy supplied.

“Doctor?” the Landlord asked.

The Doctor looked up from the prawn crackers he was helping himself too.

“Oh, er, yeah, he's-- He's my grandfather.”

“You're assisting with the relocation?”

“That's right, yeah,” he said.

“It's a heart-breaking experience, to leave one's charge behind, all alone in the big wide world,” the Landlord said, moving over to press his hands against the walls.

“Indeed, yes,” the Doctor agreed. He glanced at his daughter. _But I had to do it a long time ago and I was lucky enough to get her back, in a way_. “You got children?”

“I-- Yes, a daughter. But I'm most fortunate, she's still under my protection. So long as that's the case, I'm most content. So, I was calling to see if everything's satisfactory?”

“Actually, there are a few things,” the second girl said.

“Yes, I see. Go on,” the Landlord prompted.

The kids all began speaking at once and the Doctor didn’t know who was saying what.

“No central heating?”

“The power sockets are wrong.”

“And a landline.”

“Some new furniture.”

“I need some curtains, carpets.”

“Have you got a cat?” Bill asked.

The Doctor bit down on his prawn cracker and the loud crunch cut through the overlapping voices. They all broke off to look at him so he tried to chew more quietly.

“A cat?” the Landlord asked.

“Er, er, yeah,” Bill stammered. “Um, Harry said that he heard some, some noise upstairs, like, like walking around?”

The Landlord shook his head. “No cats. No pets,” he instructed. “You understand I won't be able to do any of this tonight, but as soon as possible, yes.” He knocked twice on the wall. “Knock on wood. Do what I can.”

The house let out a long creak.

“That's another thing. This house is really creaky,” the first girl said. “Everything you touch, it's like uuuurrr!”

“It's unavoidable, my dear,” the Landlord laughed.

“How do you get into the tower?” short boy asked.

The Landlord rounded on him.

“You don't,” he growled. Then he seemed to catch himself. “The tower is specifically excluded from the terms of our agreement.”

The Doctor watched the exchange with interest.

“Oh, right, Well, thank you. No tower. Got it,” the boy nodded.

“Right,” the Landlord said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please consider leaving a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> Part 2 will be up in a couple of days.
> 
> Happy Easter!


	17. Knock Knock Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe. So, I was going to publish this yesterday but I forgot.

The Landlord started to leave but he stopped and turned to the Doctor. “Oh, are you staying here tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking another bite of his cracker.

“Er, no, he's not,” Bill said quickly.

“Well, I'm not sure,” he amended.

“There's no reason to,” she added.

“I probably will.”

“There isn't a bed, so,” she pointed out, chuckling nervously.

“All right.” The Landlord grinned and turned to leave.

“Sorry, excuse me. Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the Doctor called after him. He crossed the room. Who, um . . . Who's the Prime Minister?”

“Oh, I-- I beg your pardon?”

“Margaret Thatcher? Harriet Jones?” he pressed.

The Landlord laughed. “Oh, come on.”

Wilson? Eden?” the Doctor persisted.

The man pulled him aside. “I think it's better to leave your granddaughter--”

“Daughter,” the Doctor corrected.

“Pardon?”

“She’s my daughter.” He knew that telling him was defeating the whole purpose of Bill being human, but if the man was going to believe she was related to him anyway, he might as well know the truth.

“But she said--”

“She lied.”

“Very well then, perhaps you should leave your daughter here with her friends. They seem respectable, and I'll keep an eye, of course.”

He pulled out a tuning fork and tapped it against the wall twice.

“I'll attend to your requirements in the morning. In the meantime, sleep well.”

He touched the end of it to the wood and it let out a clear, steady note. Then he grinned and left. The Doctor finished eating his cracker.

“I take it back,” the second girl said. “You're fine. He's weird.”

“Ah! The washing machine!” the first one gasped.

She rushed off after the Landlord only to return a few moments later and declare, “He's not there.”

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound coming from upstairs.

“That-- That's it,” the short boy said, pointing to the ceiling. The noise came again. “That's the noise I heard.”

“Fascinating,” the Doctor breathed. He followed it across the room. It came again, this time in the walls so the Doctor planted his hand on a panel. It stopped abruptly.

“It's just pipes,” the tall boy scoffed. “I'm going to bed.”

“Yeah. I might go up, as well,” Bill said.

The Doctor turned to the second girl who was standing beside him. She shrank under his intense gaze, looking back up at him with a scared expression on her face.

“Me, too. Locking my door though,” the first girl was saying.

“Er, Grandfather?” Bill called. He was still in the middle of his staring contest with the second girl so she crept forward, waving a hand in front of his face. “Hello.” He looked up at her. “Yeah. Perhaps you should leave now?”

“No, no, I'm fine,” he said.

She pulled him in the direction of the exit. “Or at least then, go and, er, sleep . . . outside, in the car,” she whispered.

He turned to the short boy and the second girl. “Er, are you two tired?”

“Well, I was--” the boy started.

“Good,” he interrupted. “No, I'm going to hang about with Simon.”

“Harry,” Bill corrected.

“Florence,” he added.

“Felicity,” she corrected again. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, we're gonna-- We're gonna chill. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Felicity agreed. She clapped her hands. “Okay, yes!”

“We’re-- We’re gonna-- gonna put some tunes on, yes?”

“Yes,” Felicity grinned.

“All right,” Harry said.

“See? I'm good at making friends,” the Doctor boasted. “Give me your phone.”

“But why? There's no reception,” Bill reminded him.

“Phone,” he demanded.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Taking it from her, he turned it on and began playing the last song she had been listening to. Felicity’s face lit up and she began dancing to the music.

“I love this,” the Doctor grinned.

“Do you know who this is?” she asked.

“Do I know who this is?” he scoffed. “Yes, I know who this is.”

He turned and scowled at the phone, trying to read the artist’s name.

“Yeah, it's Spotify so it's probably random,” Bill said.

“Little Mix,” he read.

“You like Little Mix?” the tall boy asked.

“Oh, clearly she does,” the Doctor said, showing him the phone. “Look, there's a whole playlist here.”

“What else have you got on it?” the first girl asked, taking the phone from him.

“Can I have a word, please?” Bill asked.

He smiled and nodded. She left the room so he followed her a moment later.

“Honestly, Doctor, there's nothing going on,” she said. “Nothing weird, nothing alien. Just an old house and a dodgy landlord, which is pretty standard for students. I'll see you later for more exciting TARDIS action, but, basically, this is the bit of my life that you're not in. Do you know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean,” he replied.

“Thanks.”

“So, up the wooden hill, you go,” he said. “Sleep well.”

“Okay.” She stepped past him.

“Maybe before you do, you should check on your friend who hasn't been seen for a day, and who has strange music coming out of his room,” he added.

“They said he just does that,” she explained.

“Nobody just does anything.”

She studied him. “You're not leaving, are you?”

“No,” he admitted. “Your friend will probably be fine.” He reached over and knocked on the wall. “Knock on wood.”

Before she could respond, the first girl and the tall boy came into the hall.

“We need to have a talk about your taste in music,” the girl said.

“You coming up?” the boy asked.

“Yeah,” Bill nodded.

There was a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder as Bill joined them and they made their way upstairs. The rustling sound started again. Narrowing his eyes at the wall, he made his way down the hall to the front door. He turned the handle, but it didn’t budge. Frowning, he ran his fingers along the edge of it.

“Do you like this music, Doctor?” Felicity asked from behind him.

“Reminds me of Quincy Jones,” he replied. Then he turned. “I stepped in for him once. The bassist he'd hired turned out to be a Klarj Neon Death Voc-Bot. What was worse, he couldn't play.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “This is very interesting.”

“The door?” Harry asked.

“Because it isn't,” he explained.

“Isn't . . .”

“A door, anymore. Try to open it.”

Harry laughed and stepped past him. He turned the doorknob and pulled. It rattled, but the door didn’t open.

“Come on. Shireen did it a minute ago,” Felicity said.

She tried as well but it remained stubbornly closed.

“So, it's locked,” she said.

“No. Look. It's completely sealed,” he pointed out.

Harry reached up to touch the wood.

“I don't understand,” Felicity said.

They all turned as something banged behind them. There was another bang so the Doctor hurried into the other room to see what had made the sound. The shutters that had all been open a moment ago were now tightly shut.

“The shutters,” Felicity exclaimed.

“What about them?” Harry asked.

“Closed by themselves,” he explained. He hurried over to them and felt for a way to open them. There wasn’t one. “Sealed.”

“So, we’re-- we're trapped?” Felicity stammered.

“Maybe that's the idea,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

The rustling noise came from above them again.

“What's that?” Felicity demanded.

The wood began creaking loudly and dust fell from the ceiling.

  
“No. No, no, no!” Felicity exclaimed. “There's something in here. I can't be trapped! I can't!”

“Wait!” The Doctor called as she ran into the kitchen. He followed after her just in time to see her shove the shutters aside and open the window. “Don't go out there!”

“I can't be trapped!” she said. She slipped through the window and the shutters closed behind her. He ran forward, but they were sealed tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Please consider leaving a comment letting me know what you think.
> 
> I posted a short story called "Name of the Doctor" the other day. Please consider checking it out!


	18. Knock Knock Part 3

“Great. Now we're stuck here. Why'd you try and stop her?” Harry demanded.

“Listen,” the Doctor hissed.

Harry fell silent and they could hear the creaking and scratching sounds coming from the wood. There were more distant bangs as the rest of the shutters in the house closed. Then they heard Felicity’s screams.

They lunged forward and began trying to pull the shutters open, but to no avail. The Doctor froze as the screams stopped abruptly.

“What's happened to her?” Harry asked. “What's going on? Do you think it's like she said? A thing?”

“Maybe,” the Doctor replied. He was busy examining the shutters closely, trying to figure out how they had closed and why he couldn’t open them.

“And so is it out there now? Or in here?”

“Or both,” he added.

“I'm scared,” Harry admitted.

“Don't be.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn't help,” he pointed out. Sometimes fear could be your greatest strength. _A superpower_ , he thought, though he couldn’t remember where he had heard that comparison before. However, in this case, fear would only be a hindrance.

Leaning close to the shutter, he knocked on it twice. It creaked in response.

“Who's there?” he whispered.

The noise began moving so he followed it around the room, stopping at the kitchen door. He turned to Harry.

“What if something's got into the wood? Into the lathes, behind the plaster, into the very fabric of the house?” He pointed to a cupboard and looked around the room. “Wood nymphs,” he declared. “Tree spirits. Dryads.” Harry was staring at him. “Anything's possible.” He reached out and pressed on the cupboard door.

“Doctor, what are you doing?” Harry demanded. “We need to get out and call the police!”

The Doctor pushed on the door again. “Who's there?” It began creaking again.

“Doctor, you're provoking it. It's getting louder!”

Sure enough, the creaking intensified each time he pressed on the cupboard.

“Wake up! Wake up! Out you come!” he called.

He pulled his hand away as the wood grain parted and a creature like a giant woodlouse with glowing antennae crawled out of the wood and scuttled across the counter. The Doctor stared at it in surprise.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I was expecting something quite different, you know, like a gaseous creature, or microscopic! Did you see it move through the wood? Interacting at a cellular level. This must be alien! Got to be alien!” He followed it across the counter. “What are you doing here? On your holidays? Harry, get a matchbox.”

“A matchbox?” Harry demanded.

“All right, a shoebox. Don't let it get away!” he yelled as it jumped off the counter and ran across the floor.

“What do you mean, alien?”

But the Doctor wasn’t listening. “Oh, little one!”

“Doctor,” Harry called.

“Oh, it can move fast. Come on, where's that box?”

“Doctor!” he repeated.

The Doctor rounded on him. “What?” he demanded. The boy was staring straight ahead so the Doctor followed his gaze. Dozens of the little creatures were pouring out of the door and running along the walls. “Ah. Now, this starts to make sense. Yes. Dryads indeed. We need to get out,” he decided.

They ran towards the other door and Harry tried to open it.

“We can't!” he exclaimed.

The Doctor turned and looked around the room. He saw the pantry door begin to swing shut so he darted forward and pulled it open.

“Harry, in here!” he called.

The boy followed him but he asked, “What's the point of hiding in a cupboard?”

“It's not a cupboard!” the Doctor explained. Pulling the coat aside to reveal a handle, he turned it to “down” and pulled the lift gate across. The door slammed shut, plunging them into darkness as they began to descend. He pulled out his screwdriver and activated so he could use it as a torch.

When they came to a stop, he pulled the gate open and slowly stepped into the hallway. The walls here were made of brick.

“What are they?” Harry demanded. “They look like insects but you're saying they can shut doors, trap us?”

“They're not just in the wood, they're becoming the wood itself. Total infestation,” he explained. “Infestation of the Dryads!”

“You're talking like you've seen things like this before,” Harry observed.

“No, actually,” the Doctor admitted.

“But you said they were alien.”

“Well, they could be native to this planet, but I've never seen them before,” he said. “Have you?”

“That's what they're called? Dryads?” Harry asked.

“Well, that's what I'm calling them, yes.”

“You've gone crazy,” he decided.

“Well, I can't just call them lice, can I?” the Doctor pointed out.

Harry looked startled but he shrugged and shook his head. The Doctor turned and they began making their way along the passageway. They came into a room and he switched on the light. A table sat in the middle of the room, covered in boxes full of stuff.

“Maybe it belonged to a family that used to live here?” Harry suggested.

The Doctor frowned. He was busy counting them. “Harry, there's six boxes,” he pointed out.

They began pulling a few things out and looking at them before putting them back.

“Tenancy agreement,” Harry said. “Same as ours. Six signatures. Jake Christie, Annie Wren, Jonathan Frost.”

“What's the date?” the Doctor asked. Judging by the contents of the box in front of him, he would say the ‘90s, but he couldn’t be more exact. He picked up a set of polaroids.

“Er, 1997,” Harry replied before continuing to read the names. “Sarah Tiller, Mark Hopethorne, Carl Richards.”

The Doctor began flipping through the pictures. “They move in, relax, go to their rooms, then panic.” He looked up to find Harry staring at him. “Infestation.” He turned the last picture around to show the boy the photo of the creatures.

Harry’s gaze moved past him. “Doctor,” he said, setting the paper down. He moved around the table and through an archway.

The Doctor followed and they found a dozen more boxes. Harry picked up a tenancy agreement.

“1977,” he read, showing it to the Doctor.

The Doctor found another one. “1957. Every twenty years.”

They heard a creak and Harry turned with a gasp.

“There's something coming,” he whispered.

“Good.”

The Doctor stepped past Harry and made his way out of the room. The Landlord was standing at the foot of the stairs.

“Christie, Wren, Frost, Tiller, Hopethorne, Richards,” the Doctor listed.

“Fine young men and women,” the Landlord sighed.

“As were all the others,” the Doctor guessed. He smiled patiently at the man. “Where are they?”

“In the house,” he replied like it was obvious.

“What? Where?” Harry demanded. “We haven't seen them.”

“He means they're in the house. The wood, Harry,” the Doctor explained.

“Don't think I haven't considered the consequences, Doctor,” the Landlord said.

“So why do it?”

He considered for a moment before admitting, “My daughter was dying.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.

The Landlord ignored him. “Nothing could be done. Until these creatures saved her.”

The Doctor moved behind him as he spoke. His gaze followed his to a portrait of a young woman. Two dryads scuttled across it.

“We'd do anything to protect them,” the Landlord finished in a whisper.

“Your daughter, she's here. She's in the house, isn't she?” the Doctor said.

“Indeed,” the Landlord nodded. “And she must survive.”

The Doctor studied the man in front of him. He understood what he meant. He would do anything to keep Bill safe, but he knew Bill would never thank him if he killed other people to do so. But while he sympathised with him, he wasn’t about to put Bill in danger to save the Landlord’s daughter.

“We have to get out!” Harry insisted.

He ran towards the lift and tugged on the gate. The Doctor lunged towards him.

“Harry, stay with me! Come back, Harry! Come back!” he called.

But Harry slipped past him and made for the stairs. He started up them but two of the steps snapped shut around his ankle, trapping him.

“Aaah! Doctor!” he called.

“Get him out!” the Doctor demanded.

The Landlord used his tuning fork and the dryads poured out of the wood. They swarmed up Harry, covering every inch of his skin before falling away to leave nothing behind.

“God rest his soul,” the Landlord murmured.

Suddenly, the Doctor remembered that his own daughter was trapped in the house with these man-eating creatures. Fear gripped at his hearts.

“Bill! Is Bill all right?” he demanded.

The Landlord turned to face him. “I'd be more concerned for yourself, Doctor. Your advanced age means you have less energy, less matter, but they'll take what they can get.”

The Doctor turned to see the dryads swarming down the steps in his direction. He took a step back.

“The insects are keeping your daughter alive. How does that work? Come on, call these off! Maybe I could help? I'm a doctor,” he reminded him.

The Landlord hesitated. Then he tapped the tuning fork again and the dryads retreated into the stairs.

“Come,” he said.

The Doctor followed him up the stairs and through the house. They climbed the stairs to the first floor and the Landlord led him to the end of a hall. He tugged on a book and the bookshelf swung forward to reveal a spiral staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think!


	19. Knock Knock Part 4

The Doctor followed the Landlord up the stairs and through a door into a room. He was relieved to see his daughter was still alive, but his gaze was drawn to the other woman in the room: a woman made entirely of wood. Her face was carved out of wood and she wore clothes of a darker, more textured wood, like bark. Even her hair hung in wooden curls around her shoulders.

“Eliza, do not fear this man,” the Landlord said to her. “He says he might be able to make you well.”

“Bill, how are you?” the Doctor asked. He knew he had offered to help the girl, but his own daughter was still his first priority.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm okay,” she assured him. Her voice shook. “Er, Shireen . . .”

“The lice?” he guessed.

“Yeah.”

“Harry, too,” he informed her. “Um, in brief, he's her dad. He's been keeping her alive with the bugs for about seventy years. Your friends are the food. I said that I could help.” He stepped into the room and slowly approached the wooden girl. “You must be Eliza. How are you feeling? Rotten?”

“I am quite well,” she replied.

“Administer your treatment, Doctor,” the Landlord said.

“Well, what's the medical history here? What happened? Eliza, you were very ill?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Yes? The doctors had, um, given up on you, but then one day your father brings you a present. Where did you find them? What, on the roof? In the garden?” he asked the Landlord. He nodded in response. “You find the insects. You bring them into the house because you want to show them to her, presumably just to just to amuse her. You couldn't have known what they were.”

“Can you help her or not?” the Landlord demanded.

“I am helping. This is me helping,” the Doctor explained, though he knew he was really buying himself, and his daughter, time while he thought. “How did you find out their unique abilities? Did you bring them in here? You brought them in here, right, but what activated them? You use a tuning fork now, but--”

“Pavel had that record on of, uh, a violin?” Bill offered.

“High-pitched sounds. Yes,” he realised. He made his way to the bedside table and picked up the music box that sat there. He smiled and opened it slowly. It began playing music and the floor began to creak as several dryads crawled out of it. “Soothes her to sleep. High-pitched sound. You leave your daughter alone for the night, or so you believe. The music wakes them. They set to work, and in the morning, you find her revitalised, just slightly wooden.” As he spoke, the dryads began swarming towards Bill who climbed up on a chest to escape them. “You realise there's a way she can survive.”

“Enough!” the Landlord barked.

“No, wait. Doctor, that doesn't make sense,” Bill began.

He snapped the music box shut and set it aside. The dryads disappeared into the wood. He crossed the room to glare at his daughter.

“Can you not interrupt? I'm doing my thing here.”

“But why would he pick up insects from the garden and bring them in to see his ill daughter?” she asked as she climbed off the chest.

“Everyone loves insects,” he said.

“I don't!” she protested.

“They're fascinating.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes to compose herself. “Secondly, he's not wood. He's just like us,” she pointed out.

“He's--” He turned and looked at the man. “Yes,” he realised, turning back to his daughter.

“So, if he's her father, and she was preserved seventy years ago . . .” she went on.

The Doctor fumbled for his screwdriver and scanned the Landlord. He was very glad that Bill was there because this was something he hadn’t even thought to consider. He still looked just the same as he had seventy years ago. He still looked the same as he had however many years ago he had regenerated. But he was a Time Lord, and the Landlord was just human.

“You, oh,” he breathed. He grinned at his daughter. “No flies on you, Bill.” She smiled back as he turned to the Landlord. “And no bugs in you.”

“I do not understand,” Eliza said.

“I forget, you see,” the Doctor explained. “Your human lifespan, it's-- it's not long, is it?”

“Do not let them trouble you,” the Landlord told her.

“What do you remember of the past, Eliza?” the Doctor asked.

“My father . . . He knows what's best,” she replied.

“Yes, the lice preserve the appearance and the voice, but not so much the memories,” he observed. “He's not your father, am I right?”

“No!” the Landlord snapped. “Stop talking!”

“Father, what's the matter?” Eliza asked. “I don't understand.”

“Your father would have had better things to do than playing with insects in the garden. But he isn't your father,” the Doctor explained. “When you were ill, he was sent out of the house by the doctors who are failing to save his mother!”

“His . . . mother?” she repeated.

“Eliza, he's your son,” the Doctor said. “Your loving son.”

Eliza gasped. “My son?”

She reached her wooden arms out towards him.

“Forgive me,” he cried. “Forgive me.”

“When you saw what the creatures had done, you understood, didn't you? The lice could keep your mother alive if you protected them, tamed them, fed them,” the Doctor continued softly.

“If you could save the one who brought you into this world, wouldn't you?” the Landlord demanded.

The Doctor didn’t respond. He had lost his mother over a thousand years ago, that pain was long gone. But he could see Bill react out of the corner of his eye. He remembered how much she had cried when River had left and he had told her what would happen in the Library. He knew he would do anything to save the woman who had brought his daughter into the world, if only he knew what to do.

“Your silence is a confirmation,” the Landlord declared.

“I did what you told me because I thought you knew best,” Eliza said. “But I . . . I am your mother?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“And you-- All these children you've taken. You told me it was necessary, that we had no choice.”

“That's right, it was,” he agreed. “It meant we could stay together. Don't you understand? We were happy!” She nodded and he went on. “I kept our lives a secret, and a secret we must remain.”

Wiping his tears, he turned on the Doctor.

“You have brought her nothing but misery and confusion!” he accused. “You will be taken, like the others!”

He slammed the door shut and tapped his tuning fork against it. It let out a steady hum and the dryads spiralled out of the floor. The Doctor and Bill shrunk into the corner.

“Okay . . . Now's the time for the plan,” she said.

“That was it, no plan,” he admitted. “Info dump, then busk.”

“Well, start busking,” she insisted.

He looked up at the wooden lady. “Eliza, people have died and will continue to die unless you stop all this right now.”

“How can I stop it?” she cried.

“You're the parent,” he pointed out. “You're in charge!”

She slowly raised her arms. Her hands hovered over the dryads and they split into two groups.

“That's it!” the Doctor encouraged.

The Landlord knocked on the wood. “Do what I say! I control you!” he shouted at them.

But the dryads continued swarming at Eliza’s feet. “No. It's me.” The two groups joined together. “I control them.”

The Doctor glanced at his daughter who grinned at him.

“Eliza, finish them now,” the Landlord insisted. “Take them, or you'll die! They'll destroy you!”

“What's the point in surviving if you never see anyone, if you hide yourself away from the world?” the Doctor asked. “When did you last open the shutters?”

Eliza turned and the shutters flew open. Outside, fireworks exploded in the night sky.

“It's the freshers' party in the park,” Bill breathed.

“Exactly. New friends, fireworks. That's what life should be,” the Doctor said.

“I remember,” Eliza cried. “My son, leave my side at last. Go and see the world.”

“No, I don't want to! If you won't finish them . . .” He rounded on them. “I will!”

But before he could do anything, Eliza grabbed his wrist. He turned and she rested her other hand on his arm. A dryad ran down her and onto him.

“My little boy, this has to end,” she told him.

“No, we mustn't end. We have to destroy them,” he insisted.

“It's our time.”

The Landlord looked down as the dryads climbed up him and his mother.

“No, I don't want to!” he sobbed. She pulled him into his arms as he continued to cry, “No, no.”

She turned to the Doctor. “Thank you.”

He watched as the insects covered the two figures. He longed to reach for his own daughter and pull her into his arms. His right hand twitched, but he managed not to actually do it.

As they watched, the figures disappeared and the dryads fell to the ground. As they vanished into the floor, the whole house began to creak.

“We've got to get out of here,” the Doctor realised.

They started towards the door but they stopped when they spotted a hand emerging from a swarm of dryads.

“Is that--” Bill started.

“Yes, your friend,” he said. “She's restoring them! Come on.”

They reached forward and pulled her up out of the floor. Bill pulled her into a hug.

“I thought you were gone,” she breathed.

“Are you okay?” Shireen asked.

“Me? Yeah, I'm fine.” She turned to the Doctor. “What about the others?”

“Come on!” he called.

He pulled the door open and they ran down the stairs. As they ran through the halls, they were joined by two of the boys.

The Doctor was the first one out of the house. He was met by Felicity coming towards him.

“Wrong way! Wrong way! Wrong way!” he shouted, gesturing for her to turn and then catching her arm and pulling her along. Harry appeared from around the corner of the house as it began to crumble into dust.

“Bang goes deposit,” Felicity said.

“Oh man, that's our house,” Shireen groaned.

“Gone,” Harry added.

The Doctor stepped in front of them. “Right, you lot, back to the estate agents.” He started towards the TARDIS, calling, “Better luck next time.”

He stepped into the TARDIS and began entering the coordinates for the University, but the door opened and Bill came in.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“Saving my friends.”

He laughed softly. “I didn’t do that. Eliza did.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who got her to do it,” she pointed out.

“I suppose.”

She approached the console.

“So what now?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’ll probably just stay home. At least I know there aren’t any aliens that’ll eat me there.”

“Hopefully.”

“Look, uh, Doctor, could I stay here tonight?” Bill asked slowly.

He looked at her suspiciously. “Why?”

“It’s just, it’s getting late and I don’t want to have to explain why I’m back home the same day I moved out. I mean, I’m already going to have to explain why I’m moving back in the day after I moved out.”

“Oh,” the Doctor replied. “Well, I suppose. The TARDIS should have a room for you somewhere.”

_As long as she doesn’t try to give you your room_ , the thought. The TARDIS made a sound that sounded rather like indignation.

“Thanks,” Bill said.

They landed and the started for the door. “Just start wandering,” he instructed her. “The TARDIS will help you find your room.”

“Yeah, okay,” she replied.

He stepped into his office and headed for the adjoining room. Pulling open a drawer, he rummaged around for some cash. Then he left the University to find some food.

When he returned, he made his way down to the vault. Nardole was there, examining the lock.

“Oh, here he comes,” he called out when the Doctor entered.

“Are you being cheerful?” the Doctor demanded. “I'm against cheerful.”

“Bill told me you went on a little adventure,” Nardole said without turning away from the lock. He glanced at him. “You see?”

“I see what?”

“Well, you don't have to go to outer space to find monsters. There's plenty of things that want to kill you right here on Earth,” he pointed out.

“Result.” The Doctor turned and set the two takeaway bags on a table.

“Ooh!” Nardole exclaimed. “Actually, I'm not that hungry.”

“Well, I am,” the Doctor replied.

“Obviously.”

“Okay, you can take the rest of the night off. Go on, go and do whatever it is you do.” He frowned. “Actually, what do you do? No! Never tell me that.”

“Yeah, I just want to have a look at this,” Nardole said, pointing to the lock. “Our friend inside's been a little restive lately.”

“Erm, I can sort that out.”

“No, it's all right, I don't mind.”

“Good night, Nardole,” the Doctor said pointedly.

Nardole stopped what he was doing and slowly turned to look at him. “Right. Good night, sir. See you in the morning.”

He started to leave but the sound of “Fur Elise” being played on a piano came from the speaker on the lock. Nardole froze and turned around.

“A piano? You've put a piano in there? Why?”

“Good night,” the Doctor repeated.

Nardole let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, you don't learn, do you, sir,” he muttered as he left.

The Doctor waited until he had left before turning to the door. Hurrying over to it, he tapped on it and called out, “Hey! Do you want dinner? I've got Mexican.”

The music stopped so he moved to unlock the door. As he worked, he spoke.

“Look, I know you miss it all, but I'm stuck here too, you know? We're both prisoners. So what do you say, dinner?” He waited for a response, but when none came he went on. “And I've got a new story for you, too. There's a haunted house and woodlice from space.” There was still no response so he added, “And lots of young people get eaten.”

Suddenly, the piano started again, this time playing “Pop Goes the Weasel”. The Doctor grinned and unlocked the door.

“I'm coming in,” he called as the vault doors swung open.

He still wasn’t sure that telling Her about Bill had been a very good idea, but he knew She still didn’t know who the girl really was. And he intended to keep it that way. He had been careful not to mention it or imply it or hint at it at all.

He wasn’t even sure if She knew Bill, as his and River’s daughter, existed. Thankfully, if She didn’t she’d be unlikely to guess. With the nickname “Bill” there was no way She’d be able to figure out that she was named after her grandmother. Even if they met, the physical resemblance between them was minimal. However, the Doctor had decided not to let them meet. That was still one way he could keep his daughter safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Knock Knock! Next chapter will be a flashback and then Oxygen . . . which I haven't written yet. Hopefully, I'll get it done soon.
> 
> If you haven't yet, please go check out my short story "The Name of the Doctor".
> 
> Also, if you're a fan of Sarah Jane or of The Sarah Jane Adventures, please check out my new book "Out of Time". I'm not actually going to publish it until it's finished, but I've published the Prologue in honour of Elisabeth Sladen.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you think!


	20. Names and Nicknames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not publishing this earlier but a) I was too lazy to do it and b) I don't have the next chapter written so I was trying to give myself time to get it done. . . . I didn't.

_The Doctor looked up from his book to watch his wife and daughter. River was sitting on the ground as Amelia ran around her. She looked up to meet his eyes, tucking a few curls behind her ear. Setting down his book, he moved to join her. He pressed a kiss to her temple before reaching out and catching the toddling child._

_“Hey there, Millie,” he said. He began tickling her and she squealed, trying to bat his hands away._

_“Stop it, Daddy,” she gasped. “It tickles.”_

_“Of course it tickles. It's called tickling,” he teased. He let her go and she scurried into River's lap. River laughed and hugged her tightly._

_“I want to go outside,” Amelia said._

_River turned to her husband. “What do you say, Doctor? Should we go for a walk?”_

_“Not a walk. The park,” the girl protested. “You promised we'd go to a park.”_

_“I think we can do that,” the Doctor said. “Let's put some shoes on.”_

_Amelia scrambled out of her mother's lap and started towards her room, stopping at the start of the hallway to wait for one of them to catch up. River was on her feet before the Doctor was and offered him a hand, as well as a teasing remark about being too old to get up without help. He accepted the hand and got to his feet._

_“Am I too old for you, Professor Song?” he teased, slipping his arms around her waist._

_She smirked and opened her mouth to reply but their daughter had other ideas._

_“I want to go to the park,” she reminded them._

_“Yes. Come on.” The Doctor moved forward and picked her up, carrying her to her room. Then he set her down and helped her into a pair of shoes. River joined them a minute later, handing him his coat before helping Amelia into hers._

_They left the house and walked the short distance to the nearest park. Amelia ran off to play so the Doctor linked his fingers through River's and they made their way to a bench where they could sit and still keep an eye on their daughter. It was quite some time before either of them spoke._

_“It's hard to believe she's already three,” River murmured, resting her head on his shoulder._

_“I know,” he agreed. “Sometimes it feels like only a few days since I found you panicking in the TARDIS.”_

_She hit him gently. “I wasn't panicking.”_

_“You kinda were a bit.”_

_“I was shaken,” she argued._

_“It turned out okay.”_

_“More than okay.”_

_She smiled up at him and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Amelia came running up a few minutes later._

_“Mummy! Daddy! Look!”_

_She climbed into the Doctor's lap and handed River a few small white flowers._

_“I found these over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction she had come._

_“They're very pretty, Millie,” River praised._

_“They smell nice.”_

_The Doctor hugged her, pressing a kiss to her hair. Her thick, black curls had been pulled into two pigtails on either side of her hair._

_“Do you want to put them in your room?” he asked._

_“I want you to put them in your room.”_

_“Why don't we put them on the table in the dining room?” River suggested. “Then we can all see them.”_

_Amelia considered for a moment before nodding._

_“Are you ready to go?”_

_She twisted around to look up at him. “Can we get ice cream?”_

_He chuckled. “I suppose so.”_

_She slipped off his lap so he and River got to their feet. She walked between them and both of them held one of her little hands. They made their way to a nearby ice cream parlour and the Doctor picked his daughter up so she could see the different flavours._

_“Hello, dear!” the woman behind the counter greeted her. “And what might your name be?”_

_“I'm Millie,” Amelia said._

_“Billie? That's a lovely name.”_

_Amelia gave her father a confused look but the woman kept on talking._

_“What can I get for you today?”_

_“She'll have a scoop of chocolate,” the Doctor said. “I'll take vanilla.”_

_He turned to set his daughter on the ground so he could get his wallet out as River ordered something with a fancy name. All he knew was that it included caramel. The woman filled their orders. Then he paid and they left the shop, sitting at a table outside._

_“Why did she call me ‘Billie’?” Amelia asked._

_“She probably just misheard you, Sweetie,” River laughed. “It's okay.”_

_She frowned. “But it's not my name.”_

_“I don't know, I kinda like it,” River teased._

_Amelia made a face and continued eating her ice cream. When they were done, they started making their way home. She began complaining about being tired so River picked her up and she buried her head in her shoulder._

_“I think it's time for someone to take a nap,” the Doctor chuckled._

_“I'm not sleepy,” she yawned._

_“Doesn't change the fact that it's nap time,” River said._

_They reached their building and took the lift up to their floor. The Doctor unlocked the door and took Amelia from his wife. The young girl clung to him sleepily as he carried her to her room. He helped her out of her shoes and coat and she curled up on her bed._

_“Love you, Daddy,” she murmured._

_He chuckled softly, running a hand over her little back. “I love you too, Billie,” he teased._

_She mumbled a protest, but she was already half asleep. The Doctor left the room and found his wife entering their office/library. He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She leaned back into him and he pressed a kiss to her head._

_“Are we really going to start calling her ‘Billie’?” she asked._

_“I don't know. I quite like it. It suits her,” he replied._

_“I'm not looking forward to school starting again,” she admitted. “It's always so much harder to spend any time with her.”_

_“We could always quit our jobs.”_

_“But I love my job,” she whinged._

_He laughed, pressing another kiss to her curls. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss._

_“And I love you too,” she laughed._

_“Mmm.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before freeing himself from her grasp and moving further into the room. He picked up a book from his desk and sank onto the sofa. River joined him, curling into his side as he began to read._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> I hope I'll be able to get "Oxygen" done soon but I had a really bad day last Friday and then I had a whole pile of grading to do for my mum. I've got less grading to do today so maybe I'll be able to get something done. Of course, I may still be too lazy. We'll see.
> 
> Anyway, have a great day!


	21. Oxygen Part 1

“Space, the final frontier. Final because it wants to kill us. Sometimes we forget that, start taking it all for granted. The suits, the ships, the little bubbles of safety, as they protect us from the void. But the void is always waiting.”

The Doctor paused to turn and draw a little space rocket on the blackboard.

“So, how does space kill you?” he went on. He turned to took at the students. “I'm glad you asked. The main problem is pressure.” He connected some of the stars he had drawn. “There isn't any. So, don't hold your breath or your lungs will explode. Blood vessels rupture. Exposed areas swell. Fun fact! The boiling temperature of water is much lower in a vacuum. Which means that your sweat and your saliva will boil, as will the fluid around your eyes. You won't notice any of this because fifteen seconds in, you've passed out as oxygen bubbles formed in your blood. And ninety seconds in, you're dead.”

As he spoke, he had continued joining the stars, creating the shape of a skull. He turned to the audience and grinned. “Any questions?”

A girl sitting a couple of rows in front of Bill raised her hand. He pointed at her. “Yes.”

“What's this got to do with crop rotation?” she asked.

“Er, I dunno,” he admitted. “But space is great, isn't it?”

He took a few more questions before dismissing the group. Then he joined Nardole and they made their way across the grounds towards the vault.

“You're missing it, aren't you?” Nardole demanded.

“Crop rotation?” the Doctor said.

“Space,” he replied.

The Doctor glanced up at the sky but didn’t respond. They reached the basement where they kept the vault and he began studying the lock.

“I'm worried you're thinking about taking another trip, sir,” Nardole tried again.

“I'm here, I'm guarding the vault. What do you want from me?” the Doctor sighed.

“The truth.”

“Don't be unreasonable.”

The Doctor stared up at the night sky. He had been trapped on Earth for over seventy years with only Nardole and _her_ for company. Then he had found his daughter again and he had taken her to see other planets and into the past. He had been reminded of why he travelled and how wonderful it was. Though he hated to admit it, Nardole was right. He did miss it . . . and he was planning another trip.

He turned away from the window, let out a soft laugh, and a small smile appeared on his face. He had sent Nardole off on an errand so he wouldn’t have to worry about him. Quickly crossing the room, he entered the TARDIS and pulled out his mobile to call his daughter. It rang for a moment before her voice appeared in her ear.

“Hello?”

“Bill! How quickly can you get to the school?”

“Uh, ten minutes?”

“Great! Meet me in my office in five minutes,” he instructed. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“I said it’ll take me ten minutes to get there,” she reminded him.

“Okay then, fifteen.”

“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.

  
“You’ll see.”

He hung up and turned to the controls, quickly checking to make sure everything was in order. Then he left the TARDIS and found something to occupy himself until she came.

About twelve minutes later, the door opened and Bill came into the room.

“Doctor?” she called.

He looked up from the stack of books he was sorting through. “Go wait in the TARDIS,” he instructed. “I’ll be with you in a few moments.”

She nodded and did as she was told. He quickly finished shoving the last few books back on the shelf in whatever order they happened to end up in before climbing down the stairs and moving to join his daughter.

When he entered the ship, he found her on the upper level, studying a book she had taken from one of the shelves. She looked up when he entered.

“So, where are we going?”

“Space!” he declared. “Going to space is exactly like camping.”

“Is it?” she asked.

“Er, well, no,” he admitted.

“Okay.”

“Well, in a way, yes,” he amended.

Bill looked up from her book and grinned. “Great.”

“Too much between you and the outside and you might as well stay home,” he explained as he paced around the console. “To really feel it, you need the space equivalent of a wafer-thin sleeping bag and a leaky two-man tent. So, pick a campsite.”

Bill had put the book down and joined him by the console. He pushed the monitor in front of her so she could see the options.

“Got any reviews?” she asked.

“What?”

“You know, like for restaurants. Waiter was a bit handsy, lasagne gave me the trots. Two stars.”

“Strangely, no,” he said, eyeing her curiously.

She turned back to the screen. “Oh, I don't know,” she squealed before touching one of the points on the screen. “That one.”

“Ah, yes, well, er, possibly we could go there and pitch our tent next to the toilet block,” he said. “How about something a bit more exciting?”

He touched a point in the middle of the screen. It began flashing red and beeping.

“What's that?” Bill asked.

“That is my theme tune,” he declared. “Otherwise known as a distress call.”

“You like distress calls?”

“You only really see the true face of the universe when it's asking for your help,” he explained.

“I haven't seen my true face in years,” a voice said. The Doctor looked up to see Nardole standing in the entryway. “Swapped it for this one on the run.”

“Oh, look, Bill, it's Nardole. What a lovely surprise,” he said sarcastically. He moved forward and pointed an accusing finger at the man. “I thought I sent you to Birmingham for a packet of crisps.”

“Yeah, I saw through your cunning ruse.”

“Yes, well, if you will go thinking for yourself. What do you want?” the Doctor snapped.

“I was given strict instructions to keep you at the university,” Nardole reminded him.

“Who by?” the Doctor demanded, making his way down to the lower level.

“You.”

The Doctor stuck his head between a chair and a control panel to glare up at Nardole. “Well, you're not doing a very good job, are you? I'll overlook it this once.”

“Do you know what this is?” Nardole said, holding up something small.

“If it's not crisps, you're sacked.”

“Fluid link K-5-7,” Nardole explained. “Removed it from the TARDIS the other night after your lecture.”

“That is very untrusting,” the Doctor gasped, coming up the stairs and making his way around the console.

“You took an oath, sir. The vault cannot be unguarded.”

“Oh, listen to Mister Boring,” he said to Bill who had gone back up to the upper level and was reading another book. She laughed and grinned back at him.

“I'm acting under your orders!” Nardole exclaimed.

“See how reliable I am?”

“What's a fluid link?” Bill asked.

“No idea,” Nardole admitted. “But the TARDIS can't go anywhere without it.”

“Who told you that?” the Doctor said.

“You did.”

“Exactly” He snapped his fingers before pulling the lever to set the TARDIS in motion.

“What?” Nardole exclaimed.

The Doctor turned and grinned at him. “Teach you to trust me.”

“No,” Nardole protested.

The Doctor turned and pointed at him again. “I'm docking your pay for this.”

The TARDIS dematerialised and Bill laughed, a huge grin on her face. While the Doctor knew Nardole was right and that this was probably not a good idea, he knew it was worth it, even if just to see his daughter smiling in that excited way he had always loved.

A few minutes later, he tugged down the lever and the TARDIS materialised. He made his way over to the door and pulled it open. They had appeared at the end of a long, dark corridor. He did a quick scan with his sonic screwdriver before stepping out of the TARDIS. He continued scanning as Nardole stepped out and glared at him.

“I'm a bit cross with you, sir.”

“Noted,” he replied. “Scored out. Forgotten.”

Bill came out of the TARDIS but he held up a hand before she could go too far.

“Wait,” he said. “There's no oxygen.”

“What? Well, how come we're breathing?” she asked.

“Air shell around the TARDIS,” he explained turning to look down the corridor. “Hang on.”

He pointed his screwdriver over his shoulder. The TARDIS doors flew open and air rushed out past them.

“Now there's a really big air shell around the TARDIS,” he said.

“How big?” Bill hissed.

The Doctor sonicked a control panel and the lights flickered on to reveal a long corridor. “Big enough for a stroll.”

He started off down the corridor but he didn’t miss Nardole’s muttered, “So cocky.”

“Why aren't we floating?” Bill called after him.

“Artificial gravity,” the Doctor explained.

He heard her jumping up and down a couple of times before grumbling, “Doesn't feel like space.”

The Doctor continued on to the end of the corridor where a door barred their path.

“Aw! Now it feels like space!” Bill exclaimed.

He glanced over her shoulder to see her peering out a small window. Then he turned back to examine the door.

“Look at this. Classic design. Pressure seals, hinges.” He sonicked the door and it began to open slowly. “None of that ‘schuck-schuck’ nonsense.”

“Space doors are supposed to go ‘schuck-schuck’,” Nardole grumbled. “Not uehhhhhh.” He mimed a door slowly creaking open. Bill came up to stand beside him.

“Are you going to be like this all day?” the Doctor demanded, pointing his screwdriver at him.

“Yeah,” Nardole replied, crossing his arms. “Till you're back where you should be.”

“Er, guys?” Bill cut in.

The Doctor turned his gaze on her. She was staring at something behind him.

“Hmm?” Nardole said as the Doctor turned to see what was through the door.

A man wearing a spacesuit was standing in the room.

“Hello?” the Doctor called.

The man didn’t move. His head hung and an odd angle. The Doctor crept into the room and approached him slowly. One look at his face told him everything he needed to know, but he scanned him to make sure.

“He's dead,” he declared.

“Well, how can he be dead? He's standing up,” Bill demanded.

The Doctor examined him. “Uh, no. His suit's standing up. He's just along for the ride.”

“Oh God,” Bill breathed. “What, it's standing for him?”

The Doctor continued studying the suit.

“Gyro stabilisers, magnetic boots and gloves, onboard computer. It could run, jump, and update his Facebook,” he explained. “Death, where is thy sting?”

“So, back to the TARDIS?” Nardole suggested.

“Yeah, can you turn it off?” Bill asked.

“Turn what off?” Nardole said.

“The suit. Just, just, please. Just— just turn it off.”

“Why?” the Doctor frowned.

“He's just standing there,” she protested. “It's sick. It's disrespectful.”

“I'll tell you what's disrespectful. Whatever killed him.” The Doctor made his way to a control panel on the wall and pulled up a map of the station.

“Well, there was no oxygen, right? Before we got here. Didn't he just suffocate?” Bill asked.

“Well, his tank's full,” Nardole pointed out. The Doctor watched as he brought his hand closer to the man’s face. The forcefield became visible as he touched it. “And his field's up.”

“His what?” Bill said.

“Forcefield,” the Doctor explained. “Keeps the air in.”

“Well, look, can we just, like, lie him down or something? I mean, this isn't right.”

“No, it isn't,” he agreed. “No, it isn't. Mining Station Chasm Forge. Crew of forty. I've got thirty-six records of life signs terminated. Last log entry, ‘Station declared non-profitable.’”

“Yeah, your workers all dying will do that for you,” Nardole said.

There was a clang and they all turned to look in the direction it had come from.

“Okay then! Back to the TARDIS!” Nardole exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Lovely in there. Nice and cosy.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he's right,” Bill agreed.

The Doctor continued staring through the doorway into the dark space beyond.

“Doctor, are you listening?” his daughter asked.

“Forty minus thirty-six,” he said.

“Sorry, what?”

“Equals what?” he demanded.

“Oh no, I was just saying that Nardole was saying—”

“Four,” he declared. He turned to look at her. “Four, Bill. Four survivors, one distress call. The universe shows its true face when it asks for help. We show ours by how we respond.” He turned and sonicked the lights on in the next section. “Any questions?”

Bill opened her mouth and took in a breath to speak. He held up a hand to stop her.

“Good.”

He glanced at Nardole who was making faces and gesturing in the direction they had come. Bill sighed so he turned and started down the corridor.

They came to a room where another figure was busy moving containers. This one was wearing a helmet with darkened visor.

“Hello!” the Doctor tried. It didn’t respond so he scanned it and checked the reading.

 _Empty_ ,he realised. He glanced at his daughter before stepping through the doorway and making his way around the edge of the room. Bill stepped towards the suit and waved a hand in front of it. It continued working.

“Has he got his tunes on?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” The Doctor replied.

Raising his screwdriver, he pointed it at the suit and deactivated it. Its shoulders slumped forward and the helmet popped off to reveal what was, or rather wasn’t, inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this and I'm so sorry for the delay. I have no excuse since I've got way too much free time on my hands. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you thought!
> 
> This chapter has my favourite scene in all of Who: the one where the Doctor is making fun of Nardole. I doubt I did it justice though.
> 
> Due to the way I had to divide this up, part four is going to be pretty long compared to the rest of them. I'll be posting the next part in a couple of days and hopefully, it won't take me so long to write "Extremis". However, I suspect "Extremis" is going to be pretty difficult to write. I haven't decided exactly how I'm going to do it yet. Obviously, the Doctor can't see, but he also isn't really there so . . .
> 
> Anyway, I'm supposed to be cleaning dorm rooms right now. I should go do that. 
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	22. Oxygen Part 2

“Whoa!” Bill and Nardole exclaimed, backing away quickly.

The Doctor grinned. “Calm down. It's empty.” He made over to the suit.

“And you couldn't just tell us?” Nardole asked.

“Are you trying to scare us?” Bill demanded.

“I'm maxing out your adrenaline,” he explained. “Fear keeps you fast. Fast is good.”

Bill let out a breath and slipped her hands behind her neck. “Do people ever hit you?”

“Well, only when I'm talking.”

The Doctor leaned over to examine the suit. Nardole moved to join him.

“So, it's basically a robot?” Bill said.

“Ah, well. Sort of,” he explained, glancing at the display on the arm. “Fairly dumb. Capable of simple tasks.” He turned to Nardole and pointed at him. “You'd better watch your step. You could be out of a job.” He leaned over again. “And ah! Speech.” He pressed a button on the display. “Hello, suit.”

“ _Good morning. How may I assist?_ ” the suit replied. Its voice was that of an American woman.

“Ooh, recognise that voice,” Nardole said. “Yes! Nice girl. Actress. Bit orange. Left me for an AI in a call centre.”

Ignoring him, the Doctor asked, “What killed the crew of this station?” He glanced at his daughter, aware that the answer to his questions might only serve to frighten her more.

“ _I am unaware of any recent deaths_ ,” the suit replied.

“What about the oxygen? Where did it all go?”

“ _There has never been any oxygen in this station._ ”

“Oh.” Nardole laughed. “Listen to that. Still saucy after all these years.”

“Explain,” the Doctor demanded.

The suit complied. “ _Oxygen is available for personal use only, at competitive prices._ ”

_Ah_ , the Doctor realised. “It's only in the suits. Personal use. They only have oxygen in the suits themselves.”

“ _Any unlicensed oxygen will be automatically expelled to protect market value_ ,” the suit explained.

“Charging for the air you breathe. She hasn't changed,” Nardole said. “What was her name?”

“Hang on. Didn't we just fill this place with air?” Bill asked.

“Yes, I suppose we did,” the Doctor agreed, pushing past her.

“Because it said expelled.”

Suddenly, an alarm filled the air

“What's that?” Nardole asked.

The Doctor felt the sudden shift in the air. “It's decompressing!” he exclaimed. They rushed down the corridor, trying to get back to the TARDIS. They managed to make it into the first room — the one with the corpse — before they were dragged off their feet. They all managed to grab hold of something as they were sucked sideways.

The Doctor finally managed to get his screwdriver out of his pocket. Pointing it at the bulkhead door, he sonicked it shut and they all fell to the floor. He quickly scrambled to his feet and tried to pull the door open. It didn’t budge so he tried sonicking it instead.

Nardole appeared behind him. “Sir. The TARDIS is on the other side of that.”

“Yes, I was really hoping that someone would state the obvious,” the Doctor grunted as he continued trying to open the door.

“Vacuum behind it, can't open it.”

“Oh, you're on a roll,” he groaned.

“And if we could, we'd be sucked out into space.”

The Doctor turned to glare at Nardole. He knew the man was trying to prove a point but now was really not the time. However, before he could say anything there was a distant whooshing sound that echoed down the corridors.

“What's that?” Bill gasped.

“Er, nothing to worry about,” the Doctor replied.

“Really?”

“Yes, not for several minutes,” he assured her. Noticing her very unassured face, he added. “Well, don't stress early, it's a waste of energy.”

“Stress about what?” she demanded, clearly already stressed.

Before he could come up with something to say that would actually reassure her, a man’s voice came over the communications.

“ _Occupants of Repair Station, please identify. Occupants of Repair Station, please identify._ ”

The Doctor hurried over to a panel on a wall and pressed a button. It beeped twice so he spoke. “Hello there! You first.”

“ _I'm sorry?_ ” the voice demanded.

“Well, all your crewmates are dead. So, either you're extremely lucky or you killed them. Which is it?”

“ _This is Drill Chief Tasker. And I haven't killed anyone. Yet. Now, who is this?_ ”

“Doctor, plus two,” he replied. “You sent out a distress call. You should be expecting company. Now tell me, what happened to the crew of this station.”

“ _Hang on, you're in the repair bay, right?_ ” the man asked. “ _Get out of there! Now!_ ”

“Why?”

“ _There are suits in there! For God's sake, stay away from the suits!_ ”

The Doctor turned to see the dead man walking towards them, or rather, the man’s spacesuit carrying him towards them, arms outstretched. The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and pointed it at the suit, trying to deactivate it, but the screwdriver flew out of his hand. The suit caught it and crushed it. The energy from its core spilt out, zapping the suit. It shook before toppling to the floor.

The Doctor stepped around the table and knelt down to pick up his wrecked screwdriver. He let out a long, drawn-out groan of annoyance as he examined it and showed it to his daughter. Then he pocketed it and leaned over the suit to examine it.

“Doctor!” Bill exclaimed.

“It's fried. Should be safe.”

“Er, you thought you were safe before,” Nardole pointed out.

“Yes, well, I'm bound to be right eventually, aren't I?” He pulled open a panel on the suit and extracted a computer chip. “Get me some history,” he said, tossing the chip to Nardole. He noticed that Bill was gasping for air. “You okay?”

“Er, yeah. Just a— Just a little freaked, I think.”

“Try not to breathe so fast,” he instructed, once again fighting the urge to hug her. Instead, he moved to stand in front of her and helped her regulate her breathing as Nardole checked the computer chip using the console on the wall. He turned to them a moment later.

“A single line of instruction was sent to all suits. ‘Deactivate your organic component.’”

The Doctor turned to examine the suits lined up along the wall. He knew they wouldn’t last long without air and he was rather afraid there was only one way of getting it. Nardole’s information had confirmed his suspicions about what had killed the people and he had to make sure it wouldn’t happen to them.

“Organic component, as in people?” Bill asked.

“Interesting,” the Doctor said as he activated the three suits’ systems. “They were killed by their own suits.”

“Can you fry those ones, too?” Bill demanded.

“Possibly, but we have another problem. Opening the airlock was the station's plan A,” he explained. “Plan B . . . filtering out all the oxygen.”

“So they can sell it back to us,” Nardole realised.

“Capitalism in space. If we want to keep breathing, we have exactly one option,” the Doctor said. He gently grabbed his daughter by the arms and turned her towards a suit. “Buy the merchandise.”

“ _Oxygen levels are seriously depleted. Please step on board your Ganymede Systems Series 12 Smart Suit. Engage pressure pad to activate customised robing._ ”

The Doctor ignored the pain caused by the look of terror in his daughter’s eyes. She rounded on him. “You said those things were going to kill us!”

“Well, on the bright side, we're dying already,” he said, trying to sound calm and relaxed, the two things he was most certainly _not_ feeling.

“How does this help?” she demanded.

“We know that they killed their occupants on specific orders. I think these ones are off-network for repairs, so they can't receive commands,” he explained. _I hope_.

“What if you're wrong?” Bill asked. Her voice was shaking.

“Well, we'll be horribly murdered!”

“What?” she gasped.

“Let's say I'm right,” he added quickly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to assure his daughter or himself at this point. The terror in her eyes matched the way he was currently feeling. He knew he had more to lose. By getting into one of those suits, Bill was only risking her life, but by putting her in one of those suits, he was risking losing his daughter: the only person he had left in the universe.

“Doctor,” Nardole called. He turned to look at him. “If those suits have killed thirty-six people, that means there's thirty-six corpses walking about this station.”

“You know, that really doesn't matter right now,” the Doctor said. It was something that had occurred to him the moment he had found out that the suits had killed their occupants and were trying to kill them. He hadn’t wanted to mention it because he hadn’t wanted to alarm his daughter. He knew he should have anticipated Nardole noticing it too and stopped him from saying something. But it was too late and Bill let out a cry of alarm.

“Correction. Yeah, it does. Because I think there's something moving out there,” Nardole informed them. He turned to the window, pressing the switch for the hull lights.

Bill and the Doctor moved forward to peer over his shoulder. The hull was crawling with the spacesuit zombies, all moving about slowly. The Doctor counted about twenty-three in total.

_And some of them are probably in here with us_ , he thought glumly. But there were bigger things to worry about at the moment.

“Suits, now!” he barked.

He hurried over to stand on the pressure pad in the middle alcove. Bill and Nardole quickly did the same on either side.

“ _Welcome to the Ganymede Systems Series Twelve Smart Suit. Oxygen field engaged_ ,” an automated voice said. As it spoke, the frame of the suit clamped around his arms and legs and the rest of the suit appeared on him. Once it was done, he stepped out of the alcove as his forcefield appeared. “ _At current levels of exertion, you have two and a half thousand breaths available._ ”

“Breaths? They couldn't just give it to me in minutes?” Bill asked.

“It don't work like that. When you panic, you breathe quicker,” Nardole explained.

“You die quicker,” the Doctor added.

“Yeah, the scareder you are, the faster you suffocate. So, relax or die. Sorry, probably not the most helpful thought. So, er, uh— breathe in.” Bill did so. “Breathe out.”

The Doctor pressed a button on his suit display. “Drill Chief Tasker. Do you read me?” he called as Nardole continued helping Bill regulate her breathing.

“ _Read you, Doctor. You need to take Corridor Twelve to Processing. Quickly._ ”

“Come on,” the Doctor called.

“We'd better go. Come on, but keep breathing,” Nardole instructed.

They made their way out of the room but a bulkhead door opened and several of the zombies stepped through.

“They're here. Come on! This way! Move!” the Doctor said, ushering them down another corridor.

Bill’s suit began talking. “ _You look like you're trying to run. Would you like some help with that?_ ”

“Can you shut your girlfriend up?” she exclaimed as the Doctor slammed the door behind them.

“Velma! That was her name!” Nardole replied.

“ _Confirmed. My name is now Velma._ ”

The Doctor grabbed a loose wire on the control panel and pulled it free. The whole thing sparked and he hoped it would buy them some time. Then he turned to follow the others down the corridor. Catching up with them, he slipped in front of them so he could lead them to their destination.

They reached a door at the end of the corridor. It was shut tightly so the Doctor turned to the control panel. It was a worse mess of wires than he had left the last one. Using his suit’s comms he called, “We've hit a sealed door at the end of Corridor Twelve. No way through.”

“My suit's really called Velma?” Bill asked Nardole.

“ _Correct. My name is Velma_.”

There was no response over the comms so the Doctor pressed a few buttons and tried again. “Tasker, come in.”

“Oh! They're through!” Nardole exclaimed.

Sure enough, the suits had made it through the door and were making their way down the corridor. The Doctor began hammering on the door. He could hear Bill’s breathing speed up behind him but he was glad to note that she was trying to steady it.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” she reminded herself. “Breathe in . . .”

“Hello?” Nardole called.

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder. The suits were still coming.

“Breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.”

“Anybody?” Nardole squeaked.

“Tasker!” the Doctor yelled.

The zombies marched closer. They raised their arms, reaching out to the group.

“Breathe in.”

“Hello?” Nardole tired again.

“Tasker!” the Doctor called.

“Breathe out! Breathe out! Help me!” Bill begged.

The door swung open and they piled through it. They were met by a small group of people. Two of them raised their guns and pointed them at them as the door was shut behind them.

“Deadlock the door!” the woman called.

“Cutting it a bit fine, weren't we?” the Doctor snapped.

“There was some debate over whether to open it at all,” the man holding the gun replied. The Doctor recognised the voice as Tasker’s.

Bill let out a startled cry so he turned to see her staring in shock at a blue-skinned humanoid.

“Wha—! Er, sorry, I wasn't expecting . . .” She raised her hand. “Hello,” she said slowly.

The Doctor winced. He knew she had only responded like that because she was currently human, but he had hoped she’d be used to aliens by now. _Not that she’s actually seen any aliens since she became human_ , he reminded himself. _Only little robots and giant fish_.

“Great. We rescued a racist,” the man said.

“What? Excuse me?” Bill demanded.

“And you are?” Tasker prompted.

“We got your distress call,” the Doctor explained. He pulled out his psychic paper and held it up as his daughter tried to apologise.

“Sorry. It's just I haven't seen many . . . well, any of your people,” she said.

“It shows,” the man replied.

“They're from the union,” Tasker gasped.

“The union's a myth,” the woman behind him stated.

“Take a look,” Tasker instructed, handing the other man the paper.

“Yeah. We're from the mythical union,” Nardole put in.

“Dahh-Ren,” the man said, offering the psychic paper to the blue man.

“We're here to help,” Nardole added.

“Sorry, is your name Darren?” Bill asked.

“Dahh-Ren,” the man stressed.

“Ahh. Makes more sense,” she replied. Suddenly, her arms reached out in front of her like the zombies in the hall had been doing. The two people with the guns raised them again as Dahh-Ren moved to check her suit’s display.

“Er, that's not me. That's not me,” she said. The Doctor hurried over to her and began examining the suit, trying to see what was wrong.

“It's just glitching,” Tasker assured them. “Ivan, take a look.”

He gestured to the other man who stepped forward to look at Bill’s suit. The Doctor stepped aside.

“Look, for the record, I'm not prejudiced,” Bill told Dahh-Ren. “I'm usually on the receiving end.”

“Oh? Why?” he frowned as he examined her suit’s display.

“What, you really don't know?” she asked as Ivan began leading her away. She continued giving him a friendly smile as they went into the other room.

“Right, where's your ship?” Dahh-Ren asked.

“Er, we're parked just off your repair station,” the Doctor replied.

“Then you might as well be on the moon,” the woman said. “They're swarming round there now.”

“It's just maths now,” Tasker said. The Doctor turned to frown at him. “Oxygen divided by bodies. And none of us have more than three thousand breaths left.”

“Then stop wasting them,” the Doctor instructed. “I need a map of the base and a full rundown on what happened here.”

“Who the hell put you in charge?” Tasker demanded.

“I'm here to save your lives,” he pointed out. “But if you don't want me to, just raise your hand.”

“Abby,” Tasker sighed. “Get the man a map.”

The woman moved to do as she was told. The Doctor moved so he could see into the room where Bill had been taken. He watched as Ivan fiddled with the back of the suit and her arms slowly lowered to her sides. Then Abby reappeared with the map.

They spread it out on the table, pinning the edges down with whatever junk was already there. Then they all gathered around the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part! I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you thought!
> 
> Okay, so, I'm trying to work on "Extremis" and I'm a bit torn between two options. The majority of the story is a simulation that the Doctor is watching. So, my question is, when he gets the email with his memory print of what happened, do you think he's seeing everything we are, or just what happened to him? I need to know how much to include and whether or not to add the parts he's not in. Do think he did see everything we did and had just made up all the action and dialogue for the parts he's not in based on what Bill had told him? Or do you think they just added that so that we can know what's going on? Please let me know what you think. I can go either way.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	23. Oxygen Part 3

“‘Deactivate your organic component,’” the Doctor quoted.

“All the suits got the same command,” Tasker explained. “Best guess, someone hacked the network.”

“And you survived how?” the Doctor asked.

“We were off-network,” Abby supplied. “You have to be to repair the conveyors.” She pointed to a spot on the map.

“It was just dumb luck,” Dahh-Ren added.

“The measurements. Are these in metres?”

“Average breaths,” Tasker said. “The only unit worth a damn out here.”

“Of course they are,” the Doctor frowned.

“Forty breaths to the dorms, one twenty to the core,” Abby explained, pointing to the map. “That's where we're headed. It's the safest place.”

“Are there more suits inside the base or out?” the Doctor asked as Bill and Ivan joined them.

“Outside is suicide,” Abby said.

“Inside we can move faster than them. Outside they have the edge. Which means we're dead,” Tasker added.

“What are you mining? Is it worth stealing?” Nardole suggested.

“You think this is a robbery?” Abby demanded.

“Well, killing you'd be a good start if it was,” the Doctor pointed out.

“It's how I'd do it,” Nardole said.

They all turned to stare at him.

“If I was to do that sort of thing,” he added quickly. “Which, actually, I probably wouldn't, so please don't worry.”

“Well, they picked a fine day for it,” Dahh-Ren sighed. “This is the least productive we've all been for months.”

“Look, we're mining copper ore. You'd need to steal a mountain to make it worth your while,” Tasker pointed out.

The Doctor thought for a moment. “Your employers. Any help from them?”

“They're too far away,” Tasker explained.

“Not that it matters. Whoever hacked the suits also cut the radio,” Ivan added.

“So your distress call?”

“Was a botch,” he said. “I boosted a suit radio through the dish.”

The Doctor allowed himself to look impressed. “Good job.” He moved around the control panel. “What about the brains of these suits? The AI?”

“They're dumb as rocks,” Tasker replied.

“But can they learn? Evolve? Grow? Maybe get tired of carrying pesky humans around?” the Doctor suggested. “I know the feeling.”

He heard Nardole laugh in agreement so he turned to glare at him. He hadn’t meant Bill since he didn’t consider her human, though she currently was. He would also never have called her pesky and he didn’t like Nardole implying that she was.

“They've got limited problem-solving, and that's it,” Tasker shook his head.

“I'm missing something. What am I missing?” the Doctor muttered.

“Oxygen,” Abby said. “That's what we're missing. Maybe find some of that and leave the big picture till later, yeah?”

An alarm began beeping. They all hurried towards the control panel and Tasker leaned over to check a monitor.

“They're fixing the lock!” he exclaimed.

“Well then, it's time to go,” Abby insisted.

“Limited problem-solving, eh?” Nardole huffed.

“West corridor is free,” Ivan said. “Forty breaths to the core. Let's move.”

They all hurried out of the room and through another door into a corridor. The door at the end was sealed. Tasker began to open it.

“Quick! They're through!” Dahh-Ren shouted.

The door swung open and a zombie’s hand came through, grabbing Tasker’s shoulder. Electricity surged through his suit. It was saying, “ _Instruction received. Organic component will be deactivated. Please remain calm while your central nervous system is disabled. Your life is in our hands_.”

  
The Doctor watched as it shocked him while everyone else ran in the direction they had come.

“Airlock!” Ivan yelled.

The Doctor finally turned and found that everyone had gone through the opposite door. He hurried to follow them as Tasker joined the rest of the zombies.

“Airlock. Helmets on,” Ivan declared when they reached the end of the corridor.

He pulled out his helmet and put it on. Nardole and the Doctor followed suit.

“Where are we going?” Bill asked.

“Outside,” the Doctor explained.

“Well, didn't they say that was a bad idea?” she demanded. He hated the note of panic in her voice, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

“It is. But I know a worse one,” he said. He took Bill’s helmet from its holder and activated it.

“Wait, why— why— why— why— why do I need that?” she stammered. “What about the air forcefield thing?” She pointed at the forcefield which lit up at her touch.

“Not strong enough for a vacuum,” he explained. “Trust me.”

She nodded slightly so he carefully lowered the helmet over her head and locked it into place. It lit up as it sealed. She let out a nervous breath and he stepped into the airlock.

“What happens if I throw up in my helmet?” she called after him.

“Colour and smells,” Nardole replied.

“Don't throw up in helmet then. Check,” Bill told herself.

He heard her step into the airlock and the door was shut behind her. Ivan activated the airlock and a panel switched on, counting the seconds as the room began to decompress.

As the seconds began to tick down, Bill’s suit spoke up, “ _Warning. Helmet malfunction._ ”

“Er, Doctor?” she stammered.

“ _Please advise local technician_ ,” the suit said.

He turned to see her taking her helmet off.

“Somebody stop it!” she exclaimed.

“Put it back on!” he said.

“Doctor, that's not me doing that,” she replied.

“Put it back on!” he repeated. He was beginning to panic.

“I'm trying,” she said, her own voice laced with panic. “I can't move my arms!”

He tried to pull the helmet out of her grasp but it was stuck fast. “Stop the cycle!” he called.

“We can't stop it. It's automated,” Ivan informed him.

“Then we know now why your suit was being repaired,” he huffed. Nardole was busy fiddling with the connections on the back of her suit. “Bill. Bill!” he called. “You're about to be exposed to the vacuum of space.”

“Oh, God!” she gasped.

“So don't hold your breath,” Nardole instructed.

“Or my lungs'll explode,” she finished.

“You were listening. Well done,” he praised as he continued trying to work Bill’s helmet out of the suit’s grasp. It was a desperate attempt to get her mind off the situation. He knew it wouldn’t work and he felt his hearts miss a beat at the sound of her beginning to cry. An alarm signalled the last few seconds before the doors would open and their magnetic boots activated.

“What are we going to do?” she cried.

The Doctor turned to see the airlock hiss open. He quickly turned back to the suit, trying to find a way to get it to release her helmet. He glanced up to see her struggling to breathe. Her breath came out in little clouds of ice and ice was beginning to form on her cheeks.

Glancing at her suit’s display, he felt a brief sense of relief.

_Low power. At least it means it won’t be able to kill her if it’s told to._ He frowned. _Unfortunately, that means I can’t do anything to get it to release this helmet_.

“Doctor, we need to go,” Abby insisted.

“I can’t leave her,” he snapped.

“She’s already dead!”

He glanced up to see Bill’s eyes roll back in her head as she lost consciousness, her head falling to one side.

“No, she’s not. She’s just unconscious. The forefield provides some protection.”

“Not enough for her to survive,” Ivan reminded him. “So unless you can get that helmet back on her head in five seconds, we’ll have to leave her.”

The Doctor let go of Bill’s helmet with a frustrated growl. “Fine. I’ll just give her mine.”

“I don’t see how that will help,” Dahh-Ren protested. “Then you’ll just die.”

“No, I won’t,” he insisted. “I’ve hacked the suit so it’ll be able to walk with us. We’ll all make it.”

Before any of them could argue with him, he had pulled his helmet off and put it on his daughter’s head. He felt the biting cold of space hit his skin, but he ignored it. He needed to get his daughter out of danger. The others had already piled through the airlock so he followed after them, pulling Bill along.

Thankfully, the forcefield was enough to keep giving him air, though he was using very little of it. Ever since they had put on their suits, he had been relying on his respiratory bypass system as much as possible in the hopes that he would still have enough air to give Bill in case she ran out. However, he knew the forcefield wouldn’t last very long and he could already feel the effects of the vacuum.

He was barely aware of Ivan and Abby shooting at the zombies that were closing in on him. His attention was fully focused on trying to keep his daughter moving. He was glad to see that she was coming around, but his own vision was beginning to blur. He fought to retain consciousness for Bill’s sake, but it was getting harder by the second. Reaching towards her, he caught her hands and continued pulling her forward.

He wasn’t sure when it happened. The next thing he was properly aware of was nearly tripping over a doorway to enter the ship. He felt someone grab him and help him through the door.

He was grateful for that. He didn’t feel like opening his eyes quite yet.

There was a lot of beeping and he felt the air grow warmer. He heard the hiss of people taking their helmets off so he tried to open his eyes.

They wouldn’t open.

Frowning, he blinked rapidly. That was when he realised that his eyes had been open the whole time. The reason he hadn’t been able to see anything wasn’t that his eyes were closed, it was because he was blind.

People were talking around him, but he could barely hear them over the ringing in his ears. Feeling Bill’s hand leave his, he tried to protest, but his voice stuck in his throat.

He heard Nardole’s voice calling his name. He turned in the direction he thought it had come from and took a step forward. However, the boots must have demagnetized because he stumbled. Two pairs of arms caught him, one on either side, and began leading him forwards.

A few minutes later, he was forced to sit down. He felt someone—probably Nardole—push him against the back of the seat.

_He’s probably examining my eyes_ , he thought.

The ringing in his ears had subsided so he batted the hands away.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled.

“You’re blind,” Nardole pointed out.

“Yes, I know that thank you,” he snapped. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

“How is he still alive?” a voice asked. He felt certain it was Dahh-Ren.

“Let’s just be glad he is.” A woman’s voice. Abby’s. Bill was—

_Bill!_

“Where’s Bill?” he demanded, panic surging through him.

“She’s unconscious,” Ivan said. “I’m not sure if—”

“She’ll be fine,” Nardole interrupted. “We should probably go take a look at her though.”

“Right. I’ll come and help with her suit. Dahh-Ren, you stay with the Doctor,” Ivan instructed.

“I’ll try to get a radio working,” Abby offered.

The Doctor heard the rustle of plastic sheeting being pushed aside as people went through. He felt someone sit down beside him.

“Doctor,” Dahh-Ren started.

“Hush. I’m thinking,” the Doctor interrupted. “If you want to do something useful, go fetch me a latte.”

He heard an annoyed sigh in response.

A few minutes later, he heard the rustle of plastic sheeting again followed by the voice he was longing to hear.

“Doctor?”

He got up and turned to face her.

“Bill,” he breathed. “You're up.”

“You're blind,” she gasped.

“I am? Well, that explains the bruised shins,” he joked, offering her a smile.

Suddenly, he was engulfed in a hug.

“Oh, don't get all gooey on me. It's temporary,” he assured her, though he couldn’t resist hugging her back. It had been nearly a hundred years since he had last hugged her and it was a relief to be able to do it again. Especially since he couldn’t see her face.

She released her hold on him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Once we get back to the TARDIS—”

“The TARDIS?”

“I've got stuff in there that'll cure anything,” he said, hoping he was right. “Failing that, I think I've got some spare eyes somewhere. They're from a lizard, but I'm sure they'll fit.”

“So erm, until then?” Bill said.

“Until then what? You really think this is going to slow me down? I do most of my best work ordering other people around.”

“You do know we're still here, right?” Dahh-Ren’s voice said from somewhere near his left ear.

He turned in his direction. “Didn't I send you out to get me a latte?”

“So, what's the plan?” Bill asked.

“Well, we've all been trying to get a radio working and the Doctor's been . . . thinking,” Dahh-Ren explained.

“Don't mean to hurry you, but in seven hundred breaths I'll be dead,” Abby called.

“I need to think,” the Doctor whispered.

He turned and started forward. Feeling a cable bump into him, he raised a hand to hold it out of his way. Then his foot came into contact with some loose metal. He froze as he heard it clatter across the floor. Then he started forward again, making his way out of the room and away from the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Part 3! I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	24. Oxygen Part 4

The Doctor heard someone approaching.

“Doctor, you okay?” his daughter asked.

“Bill, I've got no TARDIS, no sonic, about ten minutes of oxygen left, and now I'm blind,” he pointed out. “Can you imagine how unbearable I'm going to be when I pull this off?”

“Don't do this,” she groaned. “You always do this.”

He frowned. “Do what?”

“Make jokes to distract me from whatever's about to kill us.”

“What else are jokes for?” he asked.

“Doctor!” Nardole called. “There's a rescue ship on the way.”

“We've picked up a company transponder,” Dahh-Ren added.

“If there's a rescue ship on the way, then how can the rescue ship already be here?” Abby demanded.

“Too many rescue ships. There's a first-world problem,” the Doctor scoffed.

“Who are you?” Abby said.

He moved forward and looked in her direction.

“I'm the Doctor,” he said simply. “I will do everything in my power to save all your lives. And when I do, you will spend the rest of them wondering who I was and why I helped you. If anyone's offering a better deal, be my guest.”

“You didn't save Tasker, did you?” she accused. “And he believed you. Trusted you. And now he's dead. Can you give me one good reason why you shouldn't join him?”

There was the sound of a blaster rifle. He pulled back instinctively, assuming it was aimed at him.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Ivan called. “We're all getting a little punchy here. It's the oxygen thinning. It's making it harder to think.”

“Will you get out of my way!” she shouted.

The Doctor heard what sounded like a rough shove followed by Ivan’s groan. Then there was the sound of blaster fire.

“Head for the reactor core! Run!” Abby called.

“What's happening?” the Doctor demanded.

“Guess!” Nardole replied.

He and someone the Doctor guessed was Bill grabbed his arms and led him away.

“They knew we were there, somehow,” Ivan pointed out.

“Voice rec. Had to be,” Abby said.

Suddenly Bill let go of the Doctor and he heard an alarm coming from her direction.

“Doctor? Doctor, my suit!” She called. “It's doing it again! I-I can't move!”

The Doctor started in her direction.

“The sequencer's jammed,” Ivan observed. “It needs a reboot.”

“How long will that take?” the Doctor demanded.

“Too long,” Nardole replied.

“Okay, we'll pick her up. Come on,” he suggested.

“ _Warning. This is an illegal manoeuvre,_ ” the suit informed them. It must have activated the magnetic boots because it wouldn’t budge.

“The suit won't let us. Health and safety,” Abby explained.

“Health and safety?” Nardole repeated incredulously.

“Doctor?” Bill called.

He felt his panic rising. “Okay, get her out of her suit. Give her mine.”

“The sequencer controls the release clamps. We can't get her out,” Ivan said.

“Well, we can't leave her here. They'll kill her!” Nardole protested.

“ _Please do not interfere with the operation of this suit. Fines may be incurred_ ,” the suit said.

“Oh, great. I'll get fined for dying!” Bill scoffed.

“Fined for dying,” the Doctor repeated. He froze, realisation dawning. _Fined for dying. Of course!_

“Doctor?” Bill said.

“What if there never was a hack? What if this is just business? Business as usual,” he suggested.

“What do you mean?” Bill demanded.

_There’s only one way out of this,_ he realised. _Bill’s not going to like this and I’m going to hate it, but it has to be done._

He hurried towards where his daughter’s voice had come. “Bill. Bill, do you trust me?”

“Why are you saying that?” she asked warily.

“We're going to have to leave you here,” he said, grabbing onto her shoulders.

“What?” she gasped. “I'll die!”

“You're not going to die,” he informed her. “But I won't lie to you, this will not be good.”

“We have to go. Now,” Abby snapped.

“You will go through hell, but you will come through it. And I will be waiting on the other side,” he promised.

“But what if I was going to die—”

“You're not going to die!” he insisted.

“Wouldn’t you just say exactly the same?” she cried.

He could hear the tears in her voice and they were breaking his hearts, but he knew he had to stay strong.

He let go of her shoulders to give her hands a squeeze. “I will see you soon,” he promised.

“Just tell me a joke before you go,” she requested.

He let go of her hands and backed up. He wished he could tell her a joke—he wished someone would tell _him_ a joke—but he couldn’t come up with anything.

“Just tell me a joke!” his daughter begged. He turned and made his way along the corridor, trying to ignore her voice, but he could still hear every word. “He didn't tell me a joke. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Mum! Answer me!”

The Doctor’s footsteps faltered and he came to a stop. _If only River was here. She’d be able to sort everything out. She’d be able to keep Bill safe._

There was the crackle of electricity and Bill’s suit said, “ _Instruction received. Complying._ ”

“Mum!” Bill cried.

The Doctor felt someone push him forwards so he started moving again. He knew his daughter wasn’t going to die, but he was still terrified of losing her. He felt like he had let her down; like he had let River down. He heard the suit speak again.

“ _Please remain calm while your central nervous system—_ ”

Then there was the sound of a door closing, cutting off the rest of the sentence.

“Where’s the controls to the coolant system?” the Doctor demanded.

“Over there,” Ivan said. He must have been talking to someone else, presumably Nardole, because someone grabbed him and led him across the room.

Feeling a handle, he lifted a section of the panel and searched through the wires inside. Finding the ones he wanted, he began pulling them out.

“Doctor, this isn't going to work,” Nardole observed.

“Isn't it? Why, what do you think I'm doing?” he asked, moving to run his hands across the control panel in search of the other wires he needed.

“Electrolysis,” Nardole replied. “Splitting water into hydrogen and oxygen.”

“Oh, that's clever. I wish I could see me doing that.”

“Doctor, that water is cooling the nuclear core. We'd enjoy five minutes of oxygen before the whole thing overheated and blew,” Nardole pointed out.

“Yes, five whole minutes!” he agreed. “We could boil the hell out of an egg! Stop being such a quitter!”

He carefully made his way across to the coolant system and connected one of the cables to it before heading back for the other one.

“Doctor, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have saved her!” Nardole protested.

The Doctor pulled another cable across the room. “You know what's wrong with this universe? Believe me, I've looked into it. Everyone says it's not their fault. Well, yes, it is. All of it. It's all your fault. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“There's nothing we can do!” Nardole exclaimed. “She's . . . dead.”

The Doctor grabbed his shoulder. “She's no more dead than you are. Than I am. Than everyone on this station is.” He held up his hands. “Get me to a keyboard.”

“What? Why?” Nardole asked.

“Because I'm not trying to make oxygen. Keyboard! Now, please!”

Nardole began pushing him across the room.

“You think you have a plan?” Ivan asked.

“We've got exactly one plan left,” the Doctor explained. His fingers found the keyboard and he began typing frantically.

“What plan?” Ivan demanded.

“The big one,” the Doctor responded. “The one you've been waiting for all your life.”

“What's he doing?” Abby asked.

“Coolant system again,” Nardole observed.

“Yes, I've rejigged it a tiny little bit,” the Doctor said. “Either that or I've really screwed up the plumbing. It's tough when you're blind.”

“We need to know about this plan,” Abby insisted.

“Ah-ha. The nice thing about life is, however bad it gets, there's always one last option available.” He turned to face them and pressed one last button. The computer began beeping regularly. “Dying well.”

“No. No!” Abby exclaimed.

“What— What is it?” Ivan stammered.

“Our life signs. He's wired them to the coolant system. If we die, it vents,” she explained.

“When the suits kill us—and they are going to kill us—the core will blow and the whole station will be destroyed. One very big boom,” the Doctor elaborated.

“Is that really the best you've got?” Nardole demanded. “Revenge?”

“Not just revenge. It's revenge as bright as the sun. It's revenge you can see across galaxies!” he declared with a grin. He was wandering aimlessly around the room, keeping his hands on the coolant system so he wouldn’t knock into anything. “Not bad for a blind man.”

“He's locked us out of the subroutine,” Ivan said.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought I was tweeting,” the Doctor joked.

“They're through the third lock,” Abby informed them.

“Open the doors,” the Doctor instructed.

“Are you of your mind?” Ivan snapped.

The Doctor turned in his direction. “Er, yes, completely, but that's not a recent thing. Listen, all we've got left is a good death. This is the moment you've been waiting for since the day you were born. Don't screw it up now.”

“There's rescue ships on the way,” Abby reminded him.

“No, there isn't!” he exclaimed. “No, there isn't. There never was a rescue ship.”

“What are you talking about?” Ivan demanded.

“There was no hacking, no malfunction. The suits are doing exactly what they were designed to do. What your employers are telling them to do,” the Doctor informed them.

“And what would that be?” Ivan said.

“Save the oxygen that you are wasting. You've become inefficient,” the Doctor explained. “You even told me. Your conveyors were down.”

“So everyone had to die?” Abby demanded.

“Ha! Well, you are just organic components, and you're no longer efficient, so you're being thrown away. You don't believe me? Check on that rescue ship. Access the log,” he instructed.

“No, not true,” Abby insisted. “None of it. You-you are just a lunatic.”

“It is true, Abby,” Ivan confirmed. “The ship, it set off before the distress call.”

“They're not your rescuers. They're your replacements,” the Doctor explained. “The end point of capitalism. A bottom line where human life has no value at all. We're fighting an algorithm, a spreadsheet. Like every worker, everywhere. We're fighting the suits.”

An alarm sounded.

“They're nearly through!” Ivan called.

“Open up,” the Doctor declared. “Let's send them a message. Let's teach them a lesson they will never forget. If they take our lives, we take their station and every penny they will ever make from it. Dying well! It's the finish line! It's winning!”

“Open it,” Abby instructed.

There was a beep and the door began to open with a groan. The suits began to stomp into the room.

“Doctor. Doctor!” Nardole whispered.

“What?”

“It's Bill,” he replied.

The Doctor felt a small sense of relief. “Of course it's Bill. Fate and me, we have a thing.” He raised his voice. “Hello, suits. Our deaths will be brave and brilliant and unafraid. But above all, suits, our deaths will be . . . expensive!”

He heard the suits come to an abrupt stop. Reaching out, his hands fell on one suit which he suspected was Bill’s and he began making his way among them.

“Check your readings. We die, your precious station dies. The whole thing will blow. The company will make the biggest loss in its history. A moment ago, we were too expensive to live. Now we're more expensive dead.” He turned to the group of people who were still alive. “Welcome to the rest of your lives.”

“But you said that we were going to die,” Abby gasped.

“Ah. Technically, I said you were as dead as Bill. Probably should've mentioned. Bill's not dead,” he said, reaching for her. “You of all people, Nardole, should have known I would never let her die. Besides, if I did, her mother would come back from the grave to kill me again.”

His hand found the switch he was looking for on the inside of the ring around her neck and he activated her oxygen. She took a deep breath and began to cough.

“I saw earlier her suit battery was too low. Not enough for a lethal dose,” he explained. “I know what it takes to kill someone.”

One of the suits began moving again and Ivan breathed a name. “Ellie.”

“What are they doing?” Abby stammered.

“Relax. They're giving us their oxygen. It's good for business,” the Doctor said. He felt his own oxygen tank being pulled from its slot and another being fitted in its place.

“I'm not sure I'm very happy about it,” Nardole grumbled.

“Thank you,” Ivan said.

“It worked!” Nardole exclaimed.

“Doctor,” Bill breathed.

“Yeah?” he replied. He was unbelievably happy to hear her voice again, though he wasn’t going to admit it.

“I think I'm alive,” she said.

“Yep. You do seem to be under that impression,” he teased.

She dragged him into a hug which he happily returned. He wished they weren’t stuck in those bulky spacesuits so he could hug his daughter properly, but a hug was a hug. But then he felt Nardole join in.

“Cuddle,” he chuckled.

The Doctor glared in his direction, though he wasn’t about to let go of his daughter.

There was an electronic beep and the Doctor’s vision was filled with red light. He blinked automatically, but it didn’t go away.

“Okay. Keep your eyes open,” Nardole instructed. “Keep them open up there, that's it.”

“You could have told us your actual plan in the first place,” Abby said.

“I could have told Bill her battery was too weak to kill her, but the suits would have heard,” the Doctor pointed out. He was beginning to make out blurry shapes around him. “I try never to tell the enemy my secret plan.”

“Ah. Better?” Nardole asked.

The Doctor blinked and got to his feet. He could make out a lot of orange light and several dark figures, but he couldn’t make out where they were. Then he heard a sound that only his ship made.

“Ah, we're back in the TARDIS. When did that happen?” he asked. Assuming the light was coming from the Time Rotor, he moved towards it. He found the console and ran a hand along its edge as he made his way around it.

“Thank you, Doctor, for all that you've done,” Abby said. He looked at the dark blob that he assumed was her. “I'm sorry that I didn't have more faith in your methods.”

“Ah, don't mention it. Now I can set you down on a hub world outside of corporate control, or anywhere, really,” he smiled. “The universe is your crustacean.”

“Head Office,” Abby decided. “We've got a complaint to make.”

The Doctor glanced at the blobs he suspected were Bill and Nardole and started forward. “I think we can arrange that.”

He stopped by his daughter and pressed a few buttons on the console.

“Promise me you'll be loud?”

“Promise,” Abby laughed.

Grinning, the Doctor pulled the lever down and the TARDIS began to dematerialise.

The blurry shapes hadn’t lasted very long. They got blurrier and blurrier throughout the trip home, and by the time they were back in his office, even the brightest lights were barely visible. But he hadn’t said anything so Bill had gone home and Nardole had stormed off into the depths of the TARDIS.

The Doctor dropped into his desk. He ran his hands over its surface, carefully pushing the papers aside. Nearly knocking something over, he caught it clumsily and tried to set it upright again. It was one of the pictures. Judging by the frame, the one of River.

He felt tears prick at his eyes. He had already lost his wife. Pictures had been the only thing he had left of her. And now he couldn’t even see those. He hugged the frame to his chest as a tear rolled down his cheek, splashing with a quiet thump on his desk.

_At least Bill’s still alive_ , he reminded himself. She was the only thing he had left and he knew his eyesight was a small, insignificant price to pay for the safety of his daughter, but he couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again; of never seeing her smile again.

He sat hugging the picture for the remainder of the night. Several hours later, he carefully put it back in its place and swung his feet up to rest on the desk. He dug in his pocket for his sonic sunglasses which he put on before pulling out a yo-yo.

He had been playing with this for several minutes when he heard someone come in the room.

“Does it work?” Bill asked.

The yo-yo stopped spinning so he reached for it to wind it up again. “Does what work?”

“Making a complaint to Head Office,” she clarified.

“No idea. Never had a head office,” he admitted. He looked up and the sunglasses allowed him to see that she was coming to stand near the desk. “But as far as I remember, there's a successful rebellion six months later. Corporate dominance in space is history, and that about wraps it for capitalism.”

“Hey!” Bill chuckled.

“Then the human race finds a whole new mistake. But that's another story.”

“Can't wait.”

“But you will,” he said.

She moved towards the door. “Laters!” she called.

“Laters,” he sighed. He was glad that she had decided to come to see him first thing after arriving at the university, even though their regular appointment wasn’t until six, but he longed to see her face.

Hearing the TARDIS doors swing open, he lowered his feet to the ground and braced himself for the lecture he knew was coming.

“Never again,” Nardole declared.

“Stop talking. Now,” the Doctor commanded.

“I'm serious. We were so close to not making it back. Then what happens to the vault? You know what's at stake here.”

As Nardole spoke, the Doctor pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t understand why they had to be so sore, considering the fact that they weren’t doing anything.

“Really, stop talking,” he repeated.

“What if you got killed out there, huh? What happens to your precious Earth then? You need to be here, and you need to be ready if that door ever opens,” Nardole continued. “Look at me.”

“I can't,” the Doctor said quietly.

“What if you came back injured or sick? You really think our friend down there won't know that? Won't sense it?” he went on, not taking the hint. “Look at me!”

“Nardole, I can't. I really can't!” the Doctor said. He got to his feet and turned to his assistant. Then he pulled off his sunglasses. “I can't look at anything ever again. I'm still blind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit longer because the only other good place to start it would have made part 3 really long. Also, this whole episode was longer than most since the Doctor was in all but three tiny scenes.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought!
> 
> The next flashback will be out in a couple of days and hopefully, it won't take me too long to get "Extremis" written. We'll see.
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	25. Sing to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I thought I had posted it two days ago. When I didn't get any feedback, I figured I'd check to make sure I had posted it. . . . Obviously, I hadn't. Anyway, it's out now. I hope you enjoy it!

_“Bedtime, Amelia,” River said for the third time that evening._

_The small five-year-old crossed her arms and scowled. “But I'm not tired,” she protested._

_The Doctor sighed and set aside the papers he had been marking._

_“Come here, Billie,” he called._

_She slipped off the sofa and crossed the room to where he sat. He picked her up and she curled up in his lap._

_“Do you know what time it is?” he asked._

_The girl glanced at the clock. “8:04,” she replied._

_“Exactly. And what time are you supposed to be in bed?”_

_“7:30,” she mumbled. She scowled again. “But I'm not sleepy.”_

_“I know, but your mum and I are and we can't go to bed until you're asleep,” he explained._

_“But--”_

_“No buts, Sweetie,” he interrupted. “You're going to bed.”_

_He got to his feet and carried his daughter out of the room. River offered him a grateful smile as he passed. They reached Billie's room and he deposited her on the bed. Then he helped her into her pyjamas and tucked her under the blankets._

_River came in and took a seat on the edge of her bed. Billie looked up at her with her big, brown eyes._

_“Sing to me,” she requested._

_River glanced at her husband. “I’m a bit busy,” she started. “Maybe your father--”_

_“You promised you'd sing to me,” Billie pouted._

_“Mummy can sing to you tomorrow,” the Doctor said._

_“No, it's okay,” she sighed. “I did promise.”_

_“Okay.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. “Good night, Sweetie.”_

_“Good night, Daddy,” she replied, planting a kiss on his cheek._

_He got to his feet and left the room, but he lingered in the hall to listen as his wife began singing an old Gallifreyan lullaby. Her soft voice filled the air and he was reminded of how beautiful his people's language was._

_Letting out a happy sigh, he made his way back to his work._

_River reappeared a little while later._

_“She's asleep,” she informed him. “Finally.”_

_He let out a quiet chuckle. “She's a Time Lady. The older she gets, the less sleep she'll need.”_

_“She's only five. She needs more sleep than a human five-year-old.”_

_“She doesn't think so.”_

_River snorted and sank into the chair beside him. “True. She's the most opinionated child I've ever met.”_

_Slipping his arms around her waist, he laughed. “No, my dear. That title belongs to you.”_

______

_River rolled over and glared at the clock sitting on her bedside table._

2:16.

_“Mummy?” a voice whimpered. “Daddy?”_

_She raised her head and spotted her daughter silhouetted in the doorway._

_“Billie?” she mumbled. “What are you doing up?”_

_“Mummy, I'm scared,” she cried._

_“Scared of what?” River pushed herself up, careful not to wake her husband. His arms were around her waist and his nose had been tucked against her shoulder._

_Before Billie could answer, there was a flash of lightning followed by the rumble of distant thunder a few seconds later. The girl let out a whimper and ran towards the bed. River leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in her arms._

_“You're scared of the storm?” she asked gently._

_Billie nodded, burying her face in her mother's chest at the sound of another thunderclap. Her small hands gripped the fabric of her tank top. River chuckled softly._

_“It's okay, Sweetie. Nothing's going to get you,” she assured her._

_The Doctor began to stir beside her. The arm that had been around her waist as they slept and was now resting across her knees began to move upwards. His hand moved up her leg and he mumbled her name. She gently swatted it away._

_There was another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder and Billie’s grip tightened. Her tears stained the front of River's shirt._

_“It's okay, Billie. Mummy's got you.”_

_“River, what's going on?” the Doctor mumbled. His arms tightened around her and he buried his nose in her side._

_“Be quiet, Sweetie. Go back to sleep.”_

_His eyes opened and he raised his head. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark._

_“What's Billie doing here?” he murmured._

_“She's scared of the storm,” River replied._

_“What storm?” There was another flash of lightning followed by a particularly loud crash of thunder. “Oh.”_

_River ran a hand over her daughter's curls. The Doctor dragged himself into a sitting position._

_“Billie,” he called softly. He reached for her. “Come here, Sweetie.”_

_The girl raised her head and turned her tear-stained face to her father. Loosening her grip on River, she crawled over to him and buried her face in his T-shirt._

_“Do you know what that sound is?” he asked._

_She nodded. “The thunder,” she mumbled._

_“And do you know what makes the thunder?”_

_“The lightning.”_

_“Exactly. And do you remember what lightning is?”_

_Billie hesitated. Then she nodded slowly._

_“Is there anything to be scared of?” he asked._

_She shook her head, but she still shrank in his arms at the sound of the thunder. He hugged her close and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Then he reached for River and pulled her closer. She slid over to him and his arm slipped around her shoulders. Resting her head against his shoulder, she threw a protective arm around her daughter. Billie was still crying, though not as hard as she had been earlier._

_The Doctor began singing quietly and River found herself struggling not to fall asleep. Eventually, his voice faded away and she raised her head to make sure he hadn't sung himself to sleep. He was still awake and was smiling down at the sleeping child in his arms._

_“Are you going to take her back to her room?” she asked._

_He shook his head. “No, I don't think so.” Looking up, he smiled at her before leaning forward to steal a kiss. “I love you.”_

_She laughed softly and returned the kiss, murmuring, “I love you too.”_

_He lay their daughter on the bed between them, careful not to wake her, and pulled the blankets up to cover her. The storm was still going strong, but they were confident she'd sleep the rest of the night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback number 5! I hope you enjoyed it! This is actually the first one to not be entirely written in the Doctor's point of view. That wasn't intentional. I had originally intended all the flashbacks to be entirely from his point of view but then I kinda forgot and I wrote this. By the time I remembered, I liked this far too much to change it. I'd rather have sleepy Doctor than sleepy River.
> 
> Anyway, don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought! It's especially great to get feedback on the flashbacks since I had to come up with the whole thing myself.
> 
> I'll try to get "Extremis" done sooner than I did this one, but I can't make any promises.
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	26. Extremis Part 1

_“Death is an increasing problem. With over a billion intelligent species active in this galaxy alone, it is an ever-greater challenge to know how to kill all of them. On this planet, we are proud to serve as executioners to every living thing. The destruction of a Time Lord, however, is a particular honour.”_

_The Doctor stood in the boat as Rafando explained. His face remained expressionless and he didn’t respond when the man stopped talking. A moment later, the boat reached the shore and they all climbed out. They made their way along the path to a square dais with a low pillar at each corner. Each pillar was topped with a metal ball and an elegant spike. A single square cushion sat in the centre of it._

_“This technology is precisely calibrated,” Rafando explained. “As you can see, it will stop both hearts, all three brain stems, and deliver a cellular shock wave that will permanently disable regenerative ability.”_

_“I know how it works,” the Doctor said, speaking for the first time since he had arrived._

_“You certainly will in a moment. Following termination, the body will be placed in a Quantum Fold chamber, under constant guard for no less than a thousand years. In case of, shall we say, relapses.” He paused. “Life can be a cunning enemy.” He made his way around the dais to stand on the side opposite to the Doctor. “An additional stipulation of the Fatality Index is that the sentence must be carried out by another Time Lord. Apologies for our choice, but your people are not easy to come by.”_

_The Doctor glared at him. Then he heard a door open behind him and_ her _voice reached his ears._

_“Oh! Doctor!” Missy gasped dramatically. He turned to eye his oldest friend and best enemy. “I didn't expect you. Thought you'd retired. Domestic bliss on Darillium. That's the word among the Daleks. What happened?”_

_As she had spoken, she had sauntered forwards, stopping in front of him. He gave her a disapproving look. A reminder of what he had lost was the last thing he needed. Especially coming from_ her _._

_“Oh, I see,” she said. “My condolences.”_

_She held her hand out, gesturing towards the dais, so he moved to stand on another side, allowing her access._

_“The prisoner will kneel,” Rafando commanded._

_He glanced between Missy and the Doctor. Nobody moved. After meeting Missy’s cold gaze, he nodded to two of the guards who came forward and grabbed her by the arms._

_“Right,” she said. Gathering her skirts in her hands, she stepped up onto the dais. “Thank you.”_

_The guards stepped down and she dropped to her knees on the cushion._

The Doctor’s hand found the complicated locking mechanism on the vault. Leaning against it, he rested his forehead on his arm. The familiar pattern beneath his fingers was a small comfort. “They can't know I'm blind, Missy,” he whispered. “No-one can know. Memories are so much worse in the dark.”

_T_ _he sound of rushing water made the Doctor turn to glace at the lake. A large, armoured structure was rising from the dark water._

_“The Quantum Fold chamber is prepared,” Rafando declared._

_“Great,” Missy sighed._

_The Doctor studied her before turning to get another look at the structure. It looked narrow and cramped, but he knew it wasn’t._

_“The sentence will be carried out,” Rafando went on. He turned to the Doctor. “Executioner?”_

_Missy turned her gaze on him so he moved to stand directly in front of her. He reached for the long lever, but as his fingers closed around it, she spoke up._

_“Please, I'll do anything,” she said. He met her gaze. He was certain he had never seen her look that sincere in all their lives. “Just let me live.”_

The Doctor had turned and was now sitting on the ground, his back resting against the vault. There was the chime of an alert on his sonic sunglasses so he reached up to see what it was. A card popped up in front of the black and green image of his surroundings. It read:

_New Email: Title_  
_EXTREMIS  
_ _Downloading_

A green bar made of overlapping Gallifreyan symbols was extending across the screen.

——

The Doctor stood in his lecture hall, leaning against the lectern. He had sent Bill home earlier than normal because he had wanted to be along, only to have Nardole descend on him, asking pointless questions and making unreasonable demands. So he had stood up and left, ignoring Nardole’s muttered, “You’re blind, not deaf.” The lecture hall had seemed like a good place to hide.

He heard the creak of the door open. Raising his head, he took in the information the sunglasses were transmitting into his mind. About a dozen men had entered the room, all between the ages of 49 and 67.

“Hello?” he called as the men spread out across the room. “Hello? Who's there?”

“Good evening, Doctor,” one of them replied in an Italian accent. It seemed to be the one who was approaching the platform. “We have come here today direct from the Vatican.”

“Oh, right. That's nice,” the Doctor said quickly. “Well, if you've got a collecting tin, I'm sure I can find something. Er, leaky roof, is it?”

He began rummaging in his pockets. He heard one of the side doors and looked to see Nardole’s tag coming towards him.

“Oh, no.” The man let out a nervous chuckle. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Stop talking. Stop now,” he called. He stopped by the Doctor so he could whisper in his ear. “Please, just listen to them. It sounds important.”

“We have come here to see you because your services and wisdom are recommended at the highest level,” the Italian man said. He moved forwards and Nardole moved towards him. Then the Doctor heard the rustle of paper.

“As you can see, this is the personal recommendation of Pope Benedict IX,” the man said. “In 1045.”

The Doctor smiled and let out a quiet laugh. “Pope Benedict. Lovely girl. What a night. I knew she was trouble, but she wove a spell with her castanets.”

“Doctor!” the man exclaimed. “On behalf of every human soul in this world, of any creed, of any faith, with the utmost respect and in complete secrecy, His Holiness, the Pope, the Bishop of Rome, requests most urgently, a personal audience.”

“Well, if he's so keen to talk to me, why doesn't he just come here himself?” the Doctor demanded.

“He is here,” Nardole said, a note of disbelief in his voice. “He's standing right in front of us.”

The Doctor realised that another person had stepped forward. “Hello, ah, the Pope,” he stammered. “I'm sorry that I didn't recognise you there.” He frowned. “You don't do this. The Pope doesn't zoom around the world in the Popemobile, surprising people.” He leaned forward. “Why would you do that?”

The man quickly repeated the Doctor’s question in Italian and then the Pope responded.

“Extremis.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened. Then Nardole suggested they go up to his office. They all agreed and the Doctor led the way. He entered his office and made his way to his desk. As he sat down, he heard someone switch on the lights.

After losing his sight, he had moved his desk out from the middle of the room. It now sat off to one side, where there was less risk of him accidentally knocking into it. He had also removed most of the decorations, including the two pictures which he had tucked in the drawer where he had but Bill’s photo when he had started teaching her. Now all that was left on the desk was a few papers, some knick-knacks that he had been tampering with, and a handful of coins scattered across the surface.

Two of the men—the one who did all the talking and the Pope—had seated themselves on the other side of the desk and Nardole was hovering behind him. The Cardinal was speaking again.

“There is an ancient text buried deep in the most secret of the Vatican libraries. A text older than the Church itself.” He paused and the Doctor nodded. “The language of this text is lost to us, but thanks to the work of an early Christian sect, the title has survived.”

There was a soft rustle of something being moved on the desk.

“Okay, so what's the title?” the Doctor asked.

“Oh. Yes, I can see that it says, er, ‘ _Veritas’_ ,” Nardole said, tapping him in the arm. “Oh. Hmm.”

The Doctor reached out and felt a scrap of parchment on the desk in front of him. It felt very old and very worn.

“Literally, The Truth,” the Cardinal said.

“Obviously, this sect, they understood the language,” the Doctor pointed out.

“It died with them. And all copies of their translation disappeared shortly after their mass suicide,” the Cardinal explained. “A few months ago, after many centuries of work, the _Veritas_ was translated again.”

“Right,” Nardole said. “And?”

“What did it say?” the Doctor demanded.

“No one knows,” the Cardinal admitted. “Everyone who worked on the translation, and everyone who subsequently read it is now dead. Dead, Doctor, by their own hand.”

As the spoke, the Doctor called up recent news reports on his sonic shades. They flashed through his mind and his frown deepened.

“The Veritas is a short document. A few pages only. And yet, it contains a secret that drives all who know it to destroy themselves.”

“Confirmed suicides, all of them?” the Doctor asked.

“In every case. Beyond doubt.”

“All bodies recovered?”

“Except one,” the Cardinal admitted. “But we naturally assumed that he had—”

“Assume nothing,” the Doctor interrupted. “Assumption makes an ass out of you, and umption. Cardinal, one of your translators is missing.”

“Doctor, those translators were devout. Believers,” the Cardinal pointed out. “They took their own lives in the knowledge that suicide is a mortal sin. They read the _Veritas_ and chose hell.”

“ _Dottore_ ,” the Pope appealed. “Will you read the _Veritas_?”

The Doctor bent his head with a frown. In the past, he would have agreed straight away. This was his kind of mystery. However, there was now one tiny problem: he couldn’t see. How was he supposed to read a book when he couldn’t see the words? The obvious answer was to have someone else ( _Maybe Nardole_ ) read it out loud to him. But apparently that would put them in danger, and he wasn’t going to do that to any of his friends. . . . Or anyone, for that matter.

Before he was fully aware of what he had decided, he had agreed and they were making their way into the TARDIS. He heard the gasps of several of the men, but he ignored them in favour of programming the ship to take them to Bill’s house. He knew what he was getting into was dangerous, but that was why he wanted her with him, so he could keep an eye on her. Well, maybe not an eye, but at least he would know where she was and that she was safe.

A few minutes later, the TARDIS had materialised. The Doctor heard the doors open as he made his way up to the upper deck and began looking for something he felt certain he kept up there. The doors opened again and there were low voices speaking Italian. The third time the doors opened, it was Bill’s voice he heard.

“Doctor,” she called. “Here's a tip. When I'm on a date, when that rare and special thing happens in my real life, do not, do not under any circumstances, put the Pope in my bedroom!”

As she spoke, he had opened a box and pulled something out of it. Judging by the shape and texture, it was what he was looking for.

“Okay. Now I know,” he replied. “Air cleared. Nardole will explain what's going on.”

He started forwards again, feeling for the chair he could ‘see’ through his shades.

“Er, Doctor?” Bill said as he sunk into the chair.

“It's, er, I think it's pretty serious,” Nardole told her.

“What's happened?” she asked.

“Well, you—”

Realising that Nardole might tell her what had happened to him, the Doctor turned to face him, touched the sunglasses, and shook his head. He wasn’t sure the man had seen, but he probably had because he didn’t mention it.

“You know the Vatican?” Nardole started.

As he explained, the Doctor turned to the device he had located. He slid part of it open and pointed his sonic screwdriver inside, activating it.

“And what is that?” the Cardinal asked. His voice was coming from the Doctor’s left.

“It's a sort of a— a reading aid,” he replied.

“It looks dangerous.”

The Doctor closed it and ran a hand over the surface, feeling the Gallifreyan symbols etched on the front. “Completely deadly,” he said. “But, uh, you know, swings and roundabouts.”

He turned the device over in his hands as the Cardinal began to speak again.

“Pope Benedict said that you were more in need of confession than any man breathing. But when the offer was made, you replied it would take too much time.” The Doctor felt a hand on his shoulder. “On behalf of the Catholic Church, the offer stands. You seem like a man with regret on his mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's back! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this done. I have no excuse. I am the laziest person in the universe. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought!
> 
> The next chapter will be up in a couple of days. And I can promise a chapter every two days for the next week . . . if I remember to update on time. After that, who knows how long it will be because that depends on how quickly I can write "The Pyramid at the End of the World".
> 
> I was going to say more, but I can't remember what it was. I also can't write words.
> 
> Anyway, have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	27. Extremis Part 2

_The Doctor gripped the lever as he studied the woman kneeling on the platform. He wondered if she really would do anything, just for the chance to stay alive. He knew she was willing to go to extremes to survive. The Master had assassinated the President and nearly destroyed all of Gallifrey for his own survival. He had stolen bodies and nearly condemned the entire universe, just to stay alive. But the Doctor didn’t know if she really was willing to do_ anything _. Was she willing to change?_

_“Have you requested a priest?”_

_The Doctor turned to look at Rafando. Then he turned further to see a figure in a cowl approaching them, the hood pulled down over his face._

_“Well, I haven't,” Missy said._

_The figure raised a beckoning hand and gestured towards the Doctor._

_“Apparently, I have,” he frowned._

_“I shall seek consultation,” Rafando said, pushing his sleeve up to reveal a wrist computer. He pressed a few buttons and it trilled._

_Missy let out a dramatic sigh and sank back onto her heels. Rafando pressed a few more buttons before speaking._

_“There are four hundred and twelve precedents in the Fatality Index. Divine intervention, therefore, is permitted for a maximum of five minutes.”_

_“Five minutes,” Missy repeated._

_“The executioner may now discuss his immortal soul and any peril thereunto,” Rafando went on. He gestured for the Doctor to move._

_He made his way over to the figure._

_“Greetings, sinner,” the man said. He had a low, dramatic voice that the Doctor suspected was for show. “Only in darkness are we revealed.”_

_“I never sent for you,” the Doctor hissed. He raised his hand which the man grabbed and placed on the worn pages of a book. The old pages felt oddly familiar beneath his fingers and he eyed the man curiously as he began to read._

_“Goodness is not goodness that seeks advantage. Good is good in the final hour, in the deepest pit without hope, without witness, without reward. Virtue is only virtue in extremis. This is what he believes, and this is the reason above all, I love him. My husband. My madman in a box. My Doctor.”_

_The Doctor pulled his hand away with a quiet gasp. The man closed the book, revealing the painfully familiar TARDIS style cover with its cracked spine and faded blue. Then the man pulled back his cowl to reveal Nardole._

_“Your missus wouldn't approve,” he said smugly._

_“How the hell did you get here?” the Doctor demanded in a loud whisper._

_“Followed you from Darillium, on the explicit orders of your late wife, River Song,” Nardole replied. “Warning, I have full permission to kick your arse.”_

_The Doctor’s jaw tightened and he felt his stomach tie itself in a knot. He had spent the last year trying so hard not to think about how much he missed his wife and daughter but seeing Nardole just brought it all back. And he was holding River’s diary, the book she never let out of her sight._

The Doctor heard and felt the TARDIS landing. Then the door opened and his sonic sunglasses told him that people were leaving the ship. He hurried to follow them, but the door was slammed shut and Nardole began talking.

“Okay, so you're blind and you don't want your enemies to know. I get it. But why does it have to be a secret from Bill?” he demanded.

“Because I don't like being worried about,” the Doctor replied. “Around me, people should be worried about themselves.”

He started forwards, but Nardole held him back with a hand on his chest.

“Yeah, shall I tell you the real reason?”

“No.”

“Because the moment you tell Bill, it becomes real,” Nardole pointed out. “And then you might actually have to deal with it.”

“Good point, well made. Definitely not telling her now,” the Doctor said before stepping around his assistant.

“You're an idiot,” Nardole declared.

The Doctor opened the door and turned to grin at the man. “Everyone knows that.”

He stepped out of the TARDIS and moved forwards, taking in the outline of everything around him. He hated admitting that Nardole was ever right, especially when he was, but there was more to it than the bald man had realised. His suggestion had been only one of _so_ many reasons why he didn’t want his daughter to know he was still blind.

He came to a stop when he heard someone speaking Italian directly in front of him. He turned to the voice to listen.

“ _Que deve proseguire senza di me_ ,” the Pope said. “ _Il Cardinale Angelo vi condurra alla biblioteca._ ”

“Here you must go without me. Cardinal Angelo will conduct you to the library,” the Cardinal translated.

The Pope placed a hand on each of the Doctor’s arms.

“ _Possa il Signore illuminare il vostro cammino_ ,” he prayed.

“May God light your path,” Angelo repeated.

The Doctor heard footsteps receding as he joked, “Well, he could certainly give it a go.”

Another pair of footsteps—presumably Cardinal Angelo’s—moved forwards so he followed after him. They stopped in front of a wall.

“The entrance to the Haereticum,” Angelo declared. “The library of forbidden and heretical texts. First instituted by your old friend, Pope Benedict, who still guards the door.”

“You old dog,” Nardole said.

There was the sound of gears grinding and a door creaking. Something slid away from the wall to reveal a passageway. They all stepped inside. After a few metres, they came to a space shaped like an octagon with four passages leading off from it. The Doctor looked around him and his shades provided him with a vague outline of the shelves as well as the impossible height of the room.

“Very few know this place exists,” Angelo informed them. “The library of blasphemy. The Haereticum.”

“ _Harry Potter_!” Bill gasped.

“Language!” the Doctor scolded.

“Please, stay close to me,” Angelo instructed. “The layout is designed to confuse the uninitiated.”

“Sort of like religion, really,” the Doctor observed.

As they started forwards again, Bill asked, “You happy in those shades? Not dark enough for you?”

“In darkness, we are revealed,” he quoted.

_“Remember, sinner, in darkness, we are revealed,” Nardole declared._

_“I regret, gentlemen, this consultation is over,” Rafando called._

_“I regret it, too,” Missy quipped._

_“The sentence must now be carried out,” he informed them._

_“Well, take a few more minutes if you like,” she suggested. “Knock yourself out. Actually do . . . do that. Knock yourself right out.”_

_The Doctor glared at Nardole before making his way back over the dais. He heard the rustle of fabric behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see that Nardole had pulled the cowl down to cover his face once more. Then he stopped beside the lever and looked up at the woman kneeling on the dais._

_She straightened up. “I'll be good, I promise. I-I'll turn. I'll turn good. Please. Teach me—_ _teach me how to be . . . good,” she begged, her voice breaking on the last word._

_She was nearly in tears and he once again wondered if she really could change._

_“Without hope? Without witness? Without reward?” he said. He needed to be certain she understood what it would mean._

They followed Cardinal Angelo through the halls of the library.

“Who was your date, then?” the Doctor asked his daughter.

“Er, Penny,” she replied. “It's a long story.”

They turned a corner and the Doctor heard the sound of a lever being pulled.

“The very centre of the Haereticum. Home of the Veritas for over a thousand years,” Angelo informed them.

“Truth in the heart of heresy,” the Doctor observed.

“And death in the heart of truth.”

“You'd be wizard at writing Christmas crackers, you two,” Nardole scoffed. Then he called out, “Doctor!”

“What's that?” Bill demanded.

“I don't know,” Angelo admitted.

The Doctor turned to Nardole for some indication of what they were all talking about. Whatever it was wasn’t registering on his shades.

“Oh, look, it's er, a mysterious light, shining round a corner, approximately ten feet away,” the man offered.

“Hello?” Angelo called. “Who's there?”

“Doctor?” Bill said.

“This library is forbidden!” Angelo declared.

The Doctor heard him step forward and Bill exclaimed, “No, wait!”

“Who are you?” Angelo demanded. “What are you doing here? Speak!”

The Doctor had rounded the corner with his daughter and Nardole. His shades showed him a long oval-shaped opening in the far wall with someone or something standing in it. He moved forwards as his shades scanned the thing in the wall, but they couldn’t seem to give him any information.

“Speak to me!” Angelo repeated.

The Doctor took a few more steps forward. His shades were still trying to figure out what was standing in the doorway. He turned back to the Cardinal. “What's through there? What's through that door?”

“There is no door there. It's a wall,” he informed him.

Suddenly, the oval vanished and Angelo moved to the wall, most likely to examine it. The Doctor followed after him.

“Impossible. Quite impossible,” Angelo muttered.

“Let's take a look at the _Veritas_. I have a feeling the answers might be there,” the Doctor suggested.

“I have to check if there is a breach in the wall. I'll unlock the cage in a moment.”

The Doctor considered for a moment before agreeing. “Sure.” He turned back in the direction they had come from and pulled his screwdriver out of his pocket, briefly activating it so that Bill and Nardole could see what he was planning. Stepping past them, he slowly made his way to the cage in the middle of the room.

There was a sudden noise and Bill gasped sharply.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed.

“What's wrong?” the Doctor asked.

Bill let out a heavy breath.

“Oh, hang on,” he added. He touched his sunglasses which revealed that there was a man in the cage. “I think there's someone in there.”

“Yeah, we are very slightly getting that,” Nardole said.

“I'm sorry,” the man gasped. “I'm sorry.” He paused. “I sent it.”

“Sent what?” the Doctor frowned.

“I sent it, yes,” the man repeated.

“Sent what where?” the Doctor asked.

There was the sound of running footsteps and the cage door swinging open as the man’s tag ran from the room. The Doctor stepped around the cage. Glancing to his right, he saw his daughter moving forward with Nardole following after her.

“No, stop,” he was saying. “You'll just get lost.”

“Cardinal Angelo, someone just broke into your book cage,” the Doctor called.

“Priest, by the look of him,” Nardole added. “Shot out the lock.”

The Doctor stood watching the man’s tag winding between the bookshelves. “Oh well, he hasn't gone far. So much for your forbidden library, Cardinal.”

“Doctor, look at this,” Bill said. “Must have been his.”

“Laptop,” Nardole supplied as the Doctor stepped into the cage with them.

“Hey, there's Wi-Fi down here,” his daughter exclaimed.

“Of course there's Wi-Fi. It's a library,” he replied.  
  


“Reading chair with a safety belt?” Nardole said.

“What's CERN?” Bill asked.

“CERN?” Nardole repeated.

“Yeah.”

“The European Organization For Nuclear Research,” the Doctor said, sinking into the chair. “The largest particle physics laboratory on this planet. Why?”

“Because four hours ago, someone, that priest presumably, emailed them a copy of the _Veritas_ translation from this computer,” Nardole informed him.

“Remember what he said. He said, I sent it,” Bill added. “He sent the _Veritas_.”

A quiet chime came from the laptop.

“And CERN have just replied,” Nardole said.

“What'd they say?” the Doctor demanded.

“‘Pray for us,’” Bill read. “When do a bunch of scientists ask for prayers?”

“The same time anyone does. When they're very, very afraid.” The Doctor had placed his hands on the book in front of him and was tracing a finger over the title. _V-e-r-i-t-a-s_. “Particle physicists and priests. What could scare them both?”

“He's been down here for a while, that guy. Whoever he is,” she said.

“At a guess, the missing translator,” he pointed out, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and scanning the cover of the book. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find, but he wasn’t getting anything.

“That's promising,” she observed.

“Promising?” Nardole repeated.

“Yeah, at least one person read the _Veritas_ and lived.”

There was the sound of a distant gunshot and Bill let out a gasp. The Doctor raised his head to look in the direction it had come from. His sunglasses showed him where the man was and he watched as the heart rate rapidly dropped to zero.

“Go and see if he's all right. Both of you,” he instructed.

“I think we know he isn't,” Nardole said.

The message on his shades switched to ‘Life Signs Terminated’.

“We know nothing of the kind,” he retorted, busily scanning the book. “He might need help. Might have useful information. He's about fifty feet that way.” He raised a hand and pointed to the right.

“Are you trying to get rid of us?” Bill asked.

“Why?” the Doctor said, looking between them. _Why does she need to be so smart?_

“Because you're sending us into the dark, after a man with a gun,” Nardole pointed out.

“Ah, well, I've thought of that.”

“Thank you.”

“Nardole, make sure that you walk in front of Bill,” he said, pointing at them in turn.

“Oh, great,” Nardole huffed.

“Are you going to read this?” Bill asked. “Is that why you're sending us off?”

“I won't read this without you,” he lied, hoping he sounded convincing. He hated lying to his daughter.

“Really, he won't,” Nardole muttered.

“Promise?” Bill demanded.

“Trust me,” he said. He still felt bad about having lied to his daughter, but he didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t see.

“We'll shout if we need you,” she sighed.

“Me too.”

He listened to their footsteps moving off as he closed the laptop and opened the book.

“Does it give you the fear when he says trust me?” he heard Bill ask Nardole.

“If I worked here, I'd cross meself,” he responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean to post this earlier . . . but I forgot . . . and then I remembered . . . and then I forgot again. Anyway, it's out now! I really hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	28. Extremis Part 3

The Doctor pulled the reading device out of his pocket and set it on the table by the book, carefully sliding it open. His fingers closed on the two small electrodes attached to wires. Taking one in each hand, he pressed them to either side of his head.

He took his sunglasses off and tucked them into his pocket. Then he felt for his sonic screwdriver. He put this in his pocket too before activating the device. Hearing the quiet beep of it activating, he closed his eyes and leaned back, preparing for the worst. He had no idea what to expect, but he was sure it would hurt.

But before he could press the button, he heard footsteps approaching.

“Cardinal Angelo?” He called. “I could do with your help here. I'm not absolutely sure how this is going to work. Either it's going to temporarily fix my eyesight, or it's going to burn out my brain.” He felt for the button. “Just, er, give me a mo.”

Feeling the button under his finger, he took a breath and then pressed it. Electricity surged through his brain and he let out a gasp. It shook him for a moment before it stopped and he slumped back in his chair, unconscious.

_“I am your friend.”_

_The Doctor studied Missy, his eyes full of emotion. “Makes no difference.”_

_“I know it doesn't. I know I'm going to die,” she said matter of factly. “I have to say it, the truth. Without hope. Without witness. Without reward,” she scoffed. Then her voice caught. “I am your friend.”_

_She looked close to tears and he felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Finally satisfied that she really meant it, his fingers tightened around the lever and pulled it back. Four beams of electricity shot out of the four pillars at the corners of the dais. They struck Missy just above the waist, giving her a nasty shock._

_The electricity cut off and she collapsed to the ground. He turned away from her, staring out across the water._

_“On my oath as a Time Lord of the Prydonian Chapter, I will guard this body for a thousand years,” he swore._

_He knew what he was promising. A thousand years was a long time. He had only spent so much time in one place once before, and it hadn’t really been by choice. Even twenty-four years would have been impossible if not for his wife, and then his daughter. But he was certain Missy was worth it. He could do it for her._

The Doctor came too and blinked his eyes several times in an attempt to clear them. All he could see was a bright light and some blurry shapes, but it was more than he had seen in a long time. He quickly pulled the electrodes off of his head and looked around. There were a lot of dark shapes, one of which was moving towards him. But his eyes were sore. Letting out a groan, he closed them and rested his cool fingers over them, rubbing them to try and relieve the pain.

“Cardinal, it worked! I can see,” he exclaimed. But his vision was still too blurry. All he could make out was vague shapes, no details. “Not well enough, not yet.” He rested his elbows on the table with another groan, continuing to rub his eyes in the hopes that it would help his eyesight and relieve the pain.

“The thing about the universe is, whatever you need, you can always borrow, as long as you pay it back,” he explained. “I just borrowed from my future. I get a few minutes of proper eyesight, but I lose something. Maybe all my future regenerations will be blind. Maybe I won't regenerate ever again. Maybe I'll drop dead in twenty minutes. But I will be able to read this!”

He slammed his hand down on the open book. The letters on the page were still blurry, but at least he could see that there were individual words.

“Now, I have no idea how that is going to affect me. So, I'd be a bit stupid to reject the precautions provided. Could you help me, please?” he said, feeling for the leather straps on the armrests and then placing his wrists on them. “Could you help me?”

He caught a glimpse of red fabric as the man helped him buckle the straps around his wrist and chest.

“You know, I've read a lot of books that this chair would be quite useful for,” he joked. “ _Moby Dick_. Honestly, shut up, and get to the whale.”

He looked around and noticed two more figures approaching.

“You invited friends and family?” he frowned.

He looked down at his right hand which was being buckled to the chair, but the hand holding it down was decidedly not human. He looked up with a gasp. The face leering above him was dead and decaying.

“Oh, it's the old, old story,” he said, turning to look at the other approaching figures. “They never look so good in the morning.”

One of them closed the _Veritas_ and pulled it towards himself.

“Goodbye to the truth? I came a long way to read that book! Two thousand years at the last count,” he protested. “If you don't want me to read it, you could have stopped me any time you wanted. Why the playacting? This is not a game.”

“This is a game,” the creature rasped.

“Good, because I win,” the Doctor declared.

He pulled his screwdriver out of his pocket and sonicked the lights off. They were plunged into darkness.

“Doctor!” the creatures hissed.

The Doctor quickly freed his wrists from the straps and unbuckled the strap across his chest. For once, he was glad he was been blind because he was used to the darkness. Even with his temporary eyesight, he had no trouble adapting to the pitch black.

“Doctor!”

Throwing himself towards the table, his fingers closed around the laptop. He quickly unplugged it before ducking under the table and escaping the cage, sonicking it shut behind him for good measure. Then he ran, quickly losing himself between the towering bookshelves.

He heard one of the monk creatures call after him. “Doctor, we have the _Veritas_.”

Ignoring them, the Doctor continued running. Eventually, he slowed down, checking to make sure the coast was clear before opening the lid of the laptop. The screen lit up to display a list of emails. The words were still blurry, but could read the words ‘CERN’ and ‘VERITAS’ on the first line. Clicking on it brought up the email an he moved the cursor to open the attached file. A document was pulled up and he read the words:

“VERITAS

A TEST OF SHADOWS”

Leaning against a bookcase, he slid to the ground and began pressing the keys to scroll down. But as more words appeared on the screen, the letters began to blur.

“Oh no,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes of clearing his vision. It didn’t help. “Oh, no!” He set the laptop down and hit the sides of his head. “No, not yet! No. No, no, no!”

Hearing footsteps, he looked up to see a dark figure moving towards him. It was one of the Monks. He slammed the laptop shut and scrambled to his feet. A hideous but blurry face loomed towards him. Turning left, he ran between two of the shelves, but the sight of a couple more figures in front of him made him stop and turn. Everywhere he ran, there were more Monks, closing in on him from every direction.

The Monks were forming a ring around him, but he dived between two of them and began running again, but it was getting harder to see by the second and his shoes began to slide on the smooth floor. He continued scrambling forward, but his feet slid out from under him and he came crashing to the ground, the laptop falling from his hand and clattering on the stone floor.

Letting out a groan, he reached for the laptop and pushed himself to his hands and knees, but before he could get to his feet, a bright light washed over him, nearly blinding him once more. He looked up to see a glowing oval in the wall. Glancing at the approaching Monks, he quickly weighed the risks. He had no idea what he would find if he stepped through that light, but the Monks were quickly bearing down on him and he decided that whatever it was would be better than staying there with them. Pushing himself to his feet, he scrambled towards the light and stepped through the bright oval.

When it didn’t get any darker, he blinked his eyes to try and adjust them to the light, but he still couldn’t see well and everything around him was a glowing blur. He could make out several rectangular shaps that seemed to be placed in a circle a little ways away. Several sections of the wall were glowing brighter than the rest. He guessed they were other portals so he made for the one nearest to his right.

Stepping through the glowing oval, he found himself back in darkness. The light from the portal was illuminating what seemed to be a white door. He groped for the handle and pushed it open, stepping through into the room beyond. There was a small blur of rapidly changing light that he guessed was a TV, but it must have been on mute because he didn’t hear anything.

Pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket, he put them on and set them to show him outline of the room around him. He moved through another doorway into a larger room, the shape of which instantly told him where he was.

A chair had been moved to face one of the windows and a tag appeared, indicating that there was a man in the chair. The Doctor was about to speak, but he noticed that the heart rate was dangerously low. As he watched, it slowed to a stop and the ‘Life Signs Terminated’ message popped up.

His fingers tightened around the laptop and he made his way to the desk at the far end of the room. Taking a seat, he opened the laptop and pulled off his shades, but his vision was all but gone. All he could make out were dark blurs on a white background. Then he saw a small symbol that looked like it could be headphones. He clicked it and it began to play. Pausing it, he fumbled around in the drawers until he found a pair of earbuds, plugged them in, and began to listen to the _Veritas_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was supposed to post this yesterday, but there were internet problems. Anyway, it's up now and I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	29. Extremis Part 4

The Doctor was startled out of thought by the sound of a door opening. Raising his head, he saw the tag indicating a woman in the doorway.

“Bill, is that you?” he asked, though he could see the information on the tag was hers.

“Hello, Doctor,” she breathed.

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Hearing his daughter’s voice was a relief.

“Is that the President?” she asked.

“It was,” he replied.

He heard the dull clicks of the lights being switched on.

“I take it he read the Veritas,” she said.

“So did I,” he informed her. “Well, I listened to it,” he admitted, pulling the earbuds out of his ears. “There's this thing on here, it reads aloud to you. It's very useful. Who needs Nardole?” He pulled off his sunglasses and turned to look where he knew his daughter was standing. “Where is Nardole?”

He heard her moving forward and sitting in a chair.

“I need to know what's real and what isn't real,” she said slowly.

“Don't we all?” he joked.

“Don't play games,” she insisted. “Tell me.”

Letting out a sigh, he moved his chair so that he was directly in front of her. His knees bumped into hers and he wished he could rest a hand there in comfort. Instead, he adjusted his position before beginning to speak.

“Uh . . . The _Veritas_ tells of an evil demon who wants to conquer the world. But to do it, he needs to learn about it first. So he creates a shadow world, a world for him to practise conquering, full of shadow people who think they're real.”

“There was a . . . a thing. The shadow test?” Bill asked.

“If you're in doubt whether you're real or not, the _Veritas_ invites you to write down as many numbers as you like—of any size, in any order—and then turn the page.”

“All the same numbers in the same order,” she said. Her voice was strained and she sounded close to tears.

“Yes,” he said. There was a pause. “Let's bring the story up to date, Bill. Imagine an alien life form of immense power and sophistication, and it wants to conquer the Earth. So it runs a simulation. A holographic simulation of all of Earth's history and every person alive on the surface. A practice Earth, to assess the abilities of the resident population. Especially the ones smart enough to realise that they are just simulants inside a great big computer game.”

“But—but this is— This . . .” She knocked on the desk. “This. . . This—this is real. I . . . I feel it.”

“Computers aren't good with random numbers,” he went on. “If you ask a computer simulated person to generate a random string of numbers, it won't truly be random. And if all the simulated people are part of the same computer programme, then they'll all generate the same string. The exact same numbers.”

“The . . . The numbers. I . . . I said them, too.”

“I know. So did I,” he admitted. “The trouble is, when simulants develop enough independent intelligence to realise what they are, there's a risk they'll rebel. Those deaths, they weren't suicide. Those were people . . .” He let out a sigh. “. . . escaping. It's like, um, Super Mario figuring out what's going on. Deleting himself from the game because he's sick of dying.”

“No, I'm real. I feel real!” she protested. He heard her scrambling to her feet and a sad smile stretched across his face.

“Those pretend people you shoot at in computer games . . .” he said. “Now you know.”

“Know what?” she demanded.

“They think they're real. They feel it. We feel it.”

There was an odd sound and Bill let out a gasp.

“Help me,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “Help me!”

“Bill, what's happening to you?” he said, straining his eyes to try to see. His daughter was a slightly darker section of the darkness, but he couldn’t see what was happening. He got to his feet, wishing he could see so he could help. The terror in her voice was breaking his hearts.

“Save me,” she choked out.

The sound got louder before fading away. Worry for his daughter overcame his wish to keep her from knowing he was blind. Moving forwards, he asked, “Bill, are you there?”

“She was not real. You are not real,” the voice of a Monk rasped.

“No, I'm not. I'm a shadow,” he agreed. “A puppet Doctor for you to practise killing.”

“We have killed you many times.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Why don't you kill me now?” he asked.

“You suffer. Pain is information,” the Monk explained. The Doctor backed into a chest of drawers, grabbing it to keep from falling. “Information will be gathered.”

“Turn me off,” he requested. “Turn me off! I have nothing. Not even hope.”

Suddenly, he remembered what Missy had said to him all those years ago, kneeling on a cushion and facing execution.

_“Without hope. Without witness. Without reward.”_

She had been repeating his words. He had been repeating what he had heard from Nardole, who had been reading what River had written.

A puzzled frown appeared on his face as his hand closed on something in his coat pocket. The worn cover felt so wonderfully familiar to his touch and he pulled it out, wishing he could see the faded blue.

“Funny. I don't believe much,” he mused. “I'm not sure I believe anything. But right now . . . belief is all I am.” He held the book between his hands. “Virtue is only virtue in extremis,” he quoted. He set the diary on the chest of drawers and ran his hands over the cover, feeling the cracked spine beneath his fingers. “I take it that your intention is to invade the Earth?”

“The simulations have been run. The Earth will be ours,” the Monk hissed.

“Well, consider this a warning on the eve of war. I am the Doctor,” he declared. “I . . . am what stands between you and them.”

“You are not the Doctor. You are not real,” the Monk pointed out.

“Oh, you don't have to be real to be the Doctor,” he scoffed. He moved back to the desk. “As long as you never give up.” He felt his way around the chair and along the desk. “Long as you always trick the bad guys into their own traps. And here's the trap you fell into. Your simulation, it's far too good.” He fumbled for the sunglasses he had left on the desk and held them up. “Do you see these? They're set to record. I'm blind, you see, so I'm psychically wired into these. So my memory print of the last few hours will still be intact on here. Information about you!”

“You are not real. There is nothing you can do.”

“Oh . . .” The Doctor smiled, moving back towards where he believed he had left the diary. “There's always one thing you can do from inside a computer. Even if you're a jumped-up little subroutine, you can do it. You can always . . .” He quickly put on his shades. “. . . e-mail!”

He touched a finger to the glasses and a message popped up reading, “Memory File: Uploading.”

“What are you doing?” the Monk rasped.

“I'm doing what everybody does when the world is in danger. I'm calling the Doctor. Pressing send,” he declared before raising a hand to touch the centre of the sunglasses. Then he grinned triumphantly at the Monk.

——

A message popped up:

_RECORDING ENDS_

The Doctor pulled off the sunglasses, glaring at the darkness before him. The glasses chimed again so he put them back on and another message popped up:

_ADDITIONAL MESSAGE_

_P.S. Dear Doctor,_

_Save Them_

_The Doctor x._

Pushing himself to his feet, he started forwards, pulling his phone out of this pocket. He quickly called his daughter and waited for her to pick up her phone.

“ _I'm doing it, I'm doing it_ ,” she said when she picked it up.

“Doing what?” he frowned.

“ _The essay_ ,” she replied. “ _I'm doing it._ ”

“Are you on a date?” He asked.

“ _No_ ,” she said, sounding confused.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“ _I think I'd kind of notice_ ,” she pointed out.

“What about Penny? Do you know a girl called Penny?”

“ _Well, yeah_ ,” she said hesitantly.

“What's she like?”

“ _Out of my league_ ,” she confessed.

“No.”

“ _S-sorry, what?_ ” Bill stammered. “ _No?_ ”

“No,” he stressed.

“ _What does that mean, ‘no’?_ ”  
  


“It means I'm a scary, handsome genius from space and I'm telling you no, she's not out of your league,” he replied. _And you’re my daughter so, if anything, you are out of her league_ , he thought.

“ _Okay, well, maybe I'll call her tomorrow,_ ” Bill decided.

“Call her tonight,” the Doctor insisted.

“ _Tonight?_ ”

“Something's coming, Bill. Something very big, and something possibly very, very bad. And I have the feeling that we're going to be very busy,” he explained. “Call her tonight.”

He hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket. Then he made his way back to the vault and placed his hands on the door.

“Listen,” he whispered. “If it comes down to it— If you're all I've got left, then I need your help. You said you were my friend.”

_Two guards stepped forwards to remove Missy’s body, but as one of them reached for her arm, she swatted them away._

_“Oi! Get— Get off!” she protested. They pulled back, startled. Rafando looked between them and her. “I've just been executed. Show a little respect.”_

_“She's— She's alive,” Rafando stammered, glaring at the Doctor._

_“I was just a bit sleepy, all right?” she said. “Let's not split hairs. Shut up.” The Doctor gave her a disapproving look as she looked up at him from where she was sprawled across the dais. “Night-night.”_

_She let her head drop back to her arm and closed her eyes, losing consciousness once more._

_“Of course she's not dead. She's a friend of mine,” the Doctor explained, a smug smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He moved around the dais. “I may have fiddled with your wiring a little bit.”_

_“You swore an oath,” Rafando reminded him._

_“I swore an oath I'd look after her body for a thousand years. Nobody mentioned dead,” the Doctor pointed out._

_“You cannot do this,” Rafando insisted. “You will not leave this planet alive.”_

_“Do me a favour. The Fatality Index. Look up ‘The Doctor’.”_ _  
  
_

_“You have an entry, just like any other sentient being,” Rafando said, fiddling with his wrist computer._

_“Under ‘Cause Of Death’,” the Doctor specified._

_Rafando rapidly typed out what he was looking for and the computer began ticking through the matching entries._

_“You do seem to have an impressive record of fatalities credited to you,” Rafando stammered, shifting uncomfortably._

_The ticking continued and he fiddled with the computer, presumably trying to stop it. It just sped up._

_“A truly remarkable record.”_ _  
_

_There were a few murmurs from the guards who quickly began to retreat._

_“Where are you going? He's unarmed!” Rafando called after them. He turned to the Doctor. “You are unarmed?”_

_“Always.”_

_The wrist computer was still ticking so Rafando smacked it several times in an attempt to get it to stop. The ticking morphed into a piercing whine._

_“You stand alone?” he asked the Doctor._

_“Often.”_

_“You're the one who should be afraid,” he said. It was obviously meant to be a threat, but there was fear in his eyes._

_“Never,” the Doctor replied._

_“Have a nice day, then,” Rafando said. Then he gave up all pretence of being calm and fled in the direction the guards had gone._

_The Doctor watched him go. He had won, but he felt no sense of victory. They had run because of his blood-soaked reputation. He wished he could be remembered for something else, but he would always have to live with those mistakes. He had killed people before and many others had died for him. The worst thing was that he could remember so many of their names. It would have been so much easier if he could just forget them, but he couldn’t._

_“Nardole, help me move Missy to the Vault,” he called. Then he moved to kneel by his friend/enemy, checking to make sure she was alright._

“Something's coming, Missy, and I'm blind,” The Doctor whispered. “How can I save them . . . when I'm lost to the dark?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you think!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	30. First Day

_“Why do I have to go to school?” Billie demanded._

_“Because your father and I don’t have the time to teach you,” River explained._

_“But what about Uncle Nardole?”_

_The Doctor snorted. “He couldn’t teach you anything if he--”_

_He broke off as his wife’s shoe came in sharp contact with his shin._

_“Uncle Nardole’s not a teacher,” she said. “Now finish your breakfast and get ready to go.”_

_“But--”_

_“No buts,” the Doctor interrupted. “Do as your mother says.”_

_Billie scowled but she finished her toast in silence. Then she slipped out of her chair and left the room. The Doctor turned to his wife._

_“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he said._

_She sighed. “Sweetie, we've been over this a hundred times.”_

_“Yes, but I'm still not convinced. What is she going to learn in a human school that she doesn't already know?”_

_“How to make friends,” she reminded him. “She never speaks to anyone her own age.”_

_“Age is relative.”_

_“Not to her. Not yet.”_

_“She doesn't even want to go,” he pointed out._

_“She still needs to.”_

_The Doctor huffed and ate another bite of eggs. River watched him, the corners of her mouth twitching, but she managed not to grin._

_“She'll be bored out of her mind,” he muttered._

_“And why is that?”_

_“She already knows what they'll teach her. She knows how to read, she can do more advanced Maths than they teach teenagers--”_

_“I went to school when I was a child,” River reminded him._

_“And spent half the time in the head teacher's office,” he snorted. “You were clearly as bored as she will be.”_

_“No, I was raised to be disruptive.”_

_“You were bored.”_

_“In my defence, I was about seven years older than all my classmates,” she pointed out. “Billie will be the same age as hers.”_

_“Hmph.” He glared at his plate. “Well, we'd better get going then.”_

_Billie clung to her mother’s hand as they approached the school. As they neared the building, she stopped walking._

_“What if they don’t like me?” she asked._

_“Who?” the Doctor said._

_“The other kids.”_

_He let out a snort. “Who cares what they think.”_

_“Doctor,” River warned. He glanced at her and she shook her head slightly, her curls swaying with the motion. Then she knelt by their daughter. “Sweetie, it doesn’t matter what they think. You’re still amazing. You know that, right?”_

_She nodded so River went on._

_“You’re unique. In the whole of the universe there never has been and never will be anyone like you. And if other people don’t like you, then that’s their problem. But I think they will like you, because you are one of the sweetest, kindest people I know. Okay?”_

_“Okay,” Billie said. She seemed to consider for a moment. “But what if I don’t like them?”_

_“Then you do the right thing and you pretend you do,” River replied. She laughed. “Unlike your father.”_

_Billie’s face broke into an unwilling grin and River gave her a hug._

_“Come on then,” she said, getting to her feet and offering her hand to her daughter. Billie took it and they started towards the school again. The Doctor watched them for a moment with a soppy expression he hoped no one else saw before following after them._

_“How was your first day?” the Doctor asked. Billie had been quiet the whole way home and was now curled up in a corner, reading a history book that River had corrected. He felt the corners of his mouth pull into a smile. She looked so small sitting in the large chair with a book almost as big as herself lying open in her lap._

_She didn’t look up. “It was okay,” she shrugged._

_“Did you make any friends?” River said._

_Billie shrugged again. “I met a lot of other kids. I don’t know if I’d call them my friends.”_

_“Give it time, Sweetie.”_

_She finally looked up. “None of them know anything. Half of them can’t read and hardly any of them know how to subtract. None of them can multiply or divide.”_

_“What did I tell you?” the Doctor muttered, offering his wife a smug smile. This earned him an elbow in the ribs._

_“They’ll learn, Billie,” River said. “It just takes them a bit longer.”_

_“But if I already know everything we’re being taught, why do I have to go?” Billie asked._

_River sighed and motioned for their daughter to join them. She closed her book and slipped out of her chair, crossing the room to scramble onto the couch with her parents. River pulled her into her lap and hugged her._

_“We want you to make friends, sweetie.”_

_Billie frowned. “But I’ve already got friends.”_

_“She means friends your own age,” the Doctor added. River offered him a thankful smile. He made a face to let her know he still didn’t agree with her._

_“But I’m not learning anything there,” Billie said._

_“Yes, you are,” he replied. “You’re learning how to interact with people your own age. That’s what’s important.”_

_She scowled. Laughing, he pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her nose. “I love you, Billie.”_

_“I love you too, Daddy,” she giggled. “Can you play for us?”_

_“Course I can.”_

_He gave her another squeeze before passing her back to her mother. Then he got to his feet and moved to get his guitar. As he played, his daughter came over to him and he paused to pull her into his lap._

_“Wanna try?”_

_She nodded and he showed her how to pluck at the strings. Her arms were too short to reach the top of the fretboard so he held the strings down to make different notes, letting her play a simple tune. Looking up, he saw his wife watching them, a fond smile on her face. He felt his own lips curve into a soppy smile that would have embarrassed him if anyone else had been there to see it._

_“Do you want to give it a go?” he asked._

_She let out a laugh. “No thank you. I think I’d rather watch.”_

_He nodded and turned his attention back to his daughter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed the chapter! It's not one of my favourites, but don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought!
> 
> I've kinda started work on the next part, by which I mean I've copied and pasted all the dialogue into a document and written half a sentence. I'm gonna try to get at least some of it done today so hopefully, you won't have quite as long a wait for "The Pyramid at the End of the World".
> 
> Anyway, have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	31. The Pyramid at the End of the World Part 1

The Doctor’s fingers danced over the strings of his guitar as he waited. His daughter had done as he had said and called Penny the evening before. He knew they had gone on their date several hours earlier. Events had been set in motion. All he had to do was wait.

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back as he continued to play.

“The end of your life has already begun,” he said. He opened his eyes, though it didn’t make a difference, and began moving around the TARDIS console. “There is a last place you will ever go, a last door you will ever walk through, a last sight you will ever see, and every step you ever take is moving you closer. The end of the world is a billion, billion tiny moments, and somewhere, unnoticed In silence or in darkness it has already begun.”

“You talking to yourself in there?” Bill’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I'm meditating,” he called. Then he pulled the guitar strap over his head and set the instrument to one side.

“You've been in there for hours,” his daughter pointed out. “I've been trying to talk to you.” He heard her tugging on the TARDIS doors. “Have you double-locked this thing?”

Moving towards the console, he reached for his sonic sunglasses. “I'm busy thinking,” he replied. Putting on the shades, he looked around the room. “Excellent. Who needs eyesight?” he murmured.

He turned to face the doors. A little square hovered, showing where his daughter was standing on the other side. He always knew when he was looking at Bill because, while the chameleon arch had made her body human, it hadn’t changed how old it was and his shades still identified her as being 126 years old.

“Those Monk creatures I told you about,” he called. “If they've modelled every event in human history, if they've simulated entire events streamed from day one till now, think what they'd know. Think what they could do with that.”

“The UN called,” Bill informed him. “They want you in Turmezistan immediately.”

“Tell them no!” Hurrying over to the doors, he pulled them open and stuck his head out of the TARDIS. “Oh.” The shape of the room and the roar of the engines were enough to let him know they were on a plane.

“They wouldn't take no for an answer,” Nardole huffed.

Turning to look at the TARDIS, he glanced between it and his daughter. “How did they get it out of my office? The windows aren't big enough.”

“Oh. . . . Er, they are now,” a man informed him.

“Are you going to ask what's going on?” Bill questioned.

“Last I heard, you were on a date with Penny. What happened?”

“Er, the United Nations Secretary-General,” she replied.

“Awesome.”

“Nah, that wasn't a metaphor.”

“Good, because I really wasn't following it,” he admitted.

A new voice spoke up and the Doctor turned to see someone entering the room. He guessed it was the Secretary-General. “Mister President, I'm very pleased to see you. I think we have something of interest.”

The man was holding up a tablet, but the Doctor’s shades couldn’t show him what was on the screen.

“Why don't you tell me in your own words?” he suggested.

“It's a matter of a pyramid,” the man replied.

Soon enough, they had landed in Turmezistan. They piled into the TARDIS and Nardole piloted it directly to the pyramid. Then they left the ship and the Doctor saw a large, rough pyramid sitting in the middle of flat land. He approached the barrier that had been set up and felt his daughter move to stand beside him.

“Tell me what you see,” he instructed.

“It’s a five-thousand-year-old pyramid,” she observed.

“What do you know?”

“It wasn't there yesterday.”

“Therefore?” he prompted.

“It's not really a pyramid. It's something disguised as a pyramid, that just appeared out of thin air, and that's all way beyond human technology, so it's got to be alien. It's an alien space ship,” she concluded.

“There you go,” he said, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

“But what's it doing?” Colonel Brabbit asked.

“It could have chosen anywhere on this planet. It chose to sit on the strategic intersection of the three most powerful armies on Earth. So what it's doing, Colonel, is sending us a message,” the Doctor informed them.

“What message?”

“Bring it,” he declared.

Taking a step forwards, he pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and sonicked the barrier open. Seeing that the two guards had shifted and hearing the sound of guns being raised, he raised his hands to show them he wasn’t going to do anything to them.

“Mister President?” the Secretary-General started.

“Sir? What are you doing?” Colonel Brabbit asked.

The Doctor turned and sonicked the barrier shut once more before tucking his screwdriver away.

“Bringing it,” he shrugged. “Nardole.” He tapped his shades to let the man know what he wanted.

“On it, sir,” Nardole replied.

“What's he doing?” he heard the Secretary-General ask as he moved away. “We don't know what that thing is capable of.”

The Doctor slowly made his way towards the pyramid. As he walked, Nardole’s voice came over his sonic sunglasses.

“ _Nothing yet, all looks fine_ ,” he assured him.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” his daughter’s voice asked.

“ _Oh, updating him._ ”

As he reached the base of the pyramid, he heard a grinding sound and saw a gap appearing in the base of the structure.

“ _There's something's happening, sir_ ,” Nardole informed him. “ _It's opening up, sir. There's a door._ ”

“Nardole?” he prompted.

“ _Something's coming out, sir._ ” Nardole paused before adding, “ _Going by the description you gave me from the simulation, sir, I think that's one of the Monk creatures._ ”

“Hello?” the Doctor said.

“We know you,” the creature hissed.

“Then you'll know that there is a line in the sand, and I'm the man on the other side of it. You want to keep me that way.”

“We will take this planet and its people,” the Monk declared.

“You will be prevented. You will be fought.”

“We will be invited,” the Monk said. “We will take this world. We will rule its people. But only when we're asked. We will talk again.”

“When?” the Doctor demanded.

“At the end of the Earth.”

Once again, the Doctor heard the sound of stone grinding against stone and the gap in the pyramid vanished. Then his shades let out a soft whir so he touched them to see what they had to say. The time popped up in the top left-hand corner, only it was wrong. It said it was 11:57 pm.

_The Doomsday Clock_ , he realised. _Three minutes to midnight._

His sunglasses whirred again so he touched them and Nardole’s voice said, “Did you get that, sir? Everyone's phone’s gone to 11:57.”

“Yep. Same here,” he replied.

“What does that mean, 11:57?” Bill asked.

“Also known as three minutes to midnight. The Doomsday Clock.”

“The what?” Nardole said.

“Symbolic clock face, representing a countdown to possible global catastrophe, started by some atomic scientists in 1947,” the Doctor explained. “The closer they set the clock to midnight, the closer we are to global disaster. Currently, it's set at three minutes to midnight.”

“So now every clock in the world is the Doomsday Clock,” Bill observed.

“Thanks to the Monks, yes,” he agreed.

“Is this a threat?” Brabbit demanded.

“I wish it was. Threats are easy. I think this is a warning,” the Doctor informed them. “Somewhere, somehow, the end has begun.”

He quickly made his way back to the rest of the group and ushered them into the TARDIS. Then he instructed the Secretary-General to get out his phone. Two quick phone calls later, they had picked up a representative from both the Chinese and Russian armies.

“Hello. Privyet,” the Doctor said to the young Russian soldier he had just materialised around. “Sorry about that. Needed the call to zero in on your co-ordinates. Now, this is the Secretary-General of the UN. I am the President of the world. And this is Xiaolian, she's in charge of the Chinese army. Say hi to each other.” He paused but nobody spoke so he went on. “Now, we've been having a bit of chat. The thing is, World War Three. What do you think? Basically, we're against it.”

He took off again, quickly piloting the TARDIS back to the UN base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever and I have no excuse. I could try to blame it on school, but that only covers the last two weeks. I should have had plenty of time to get this done before then. Anyway, it's done now so I've got a few chapters ready to publish. Then I'll probably go quiet for a while.
> 
> I think I'm going to switch to updating this just once a week because of how long it takes me to write each episode. We'll see how well this goes.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	32. The Pyramid at the End of the World Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheheh. So . . . I was supposed to update this yesterday, but I'm not used to a weekly update schedule so I forgot. I actually remembered when I was having supper, but by the time I got back to my room, I'd forgotten again. Thankfully someone left a comment on the last chapter and it reminded me I needed to post this one.

They all left the ship and entered a small building. The three soldiers—one from each army—and the Secretary-General took their seats at the long table in the middle of the room. Bill made her way to a corner as a fourth soldier stood guard by the doorway. The Doctor turned to address them.

“Listen to me. Those creatures in that pyramid, they have studied your species, your civilisation, your entire history. They've run a computer simulation of this world since you lot first slopped out of the ocean looking for a fight, and they have chosen this exact moment and this exact place to arrive. Why?”

“Because a war's about to break out,” Bill suggested.

“Possibly,” he agreed. He began to pace around the table as he spoke. “But whatever it is, they're right here, right now because they believe humanity will be at its weakest.”

“Then we'll demonstrate strength. We will attack the pyramid,” Xiaolian declared.

“Force is never the answer,” Nardole put in. “Isn't that right, Doctor?”

The Doctor glanced briefly in his direction. For once, he had to agree with the soldier. “Contact your masters. Coordinate your attacks.”

“Doctor?” Nardole exclaimed.

The Doctor began moving around the table again, this time in the opposite direction. “I doubt you'll even scratch that thing, but if you demonstrate strength and unity, they might choose to step away.” He stopped in front of his daughter and added, “Bill, take that look off your face.”

“There's no look on my face,” she denied.

“They did not come here in peace. We have to do what we can,” he explained softly.

“Yeah, I get it,” she replied. There was a note of despair in her voice and he knew she really did understand.

Just then, all the phones rang and the time on the Doctor’s sunglasses changed to 11:58.

“It's two minutes to now,” Nardole observed.

“The Doomsday Clock is moving,” the Doctor said.

“What do we do?” the Secretary-General asked.

“Coordinate your attacks,” the Doctor instructed.

Turning, he made his way to the open door so he could get another “look” at the pyramid. He could picture the look Bill was probably wearing as clearly as if he was seeing it with his own eyes. He knew she wouldn’t be happy with his decision, but it was the only thing he could come up with.

_If only I could see the pyramid and the Monks_ , he thought. _Then maybe I’d know how to defeat them_. But he suspected that even his sight wouldn’t be enough to get them out of this one.

A few moments later, he heard footsteps approaching and felt a shoulder brush against his arm. He turned to see that it was his daughter and sensed that something was wrong.

“Did Nardole send you to speak to me?” he guessed.

“Mighta done. Might have said there was something you ought to tell me,” she replied.

He looked away so she couldn’t see his face, though he wasn’t sure if she was even looking. “Funny thing, fear, isn't it?” He slowly pulled off his shades and began fidgeting with them. “Once it rules you, you're even afraid to admit what's scaring you. For the record, I, for one, fully understand my weakness.”

He turned to face her, his sightless eyes staring at where he knew she was standing. She was his daughter. He didn’t need to see her to know she was there.

“Oh God, what's that?” Bill asked, sounding a bit irritated.

The Doctor turned back to the pyramid, quickly putting his sunglasses back on. Everything looked the same as it had earlier, though the energy readings were higher than they had been.

They all left the building and piled into a couple of cars.

“So, why is the pyramid active now?” Bill asked as they drove along the bumpy road towards the pyramid.

“Possibly they know they're about to be bombed,” the Doctor suggested.

When they finally came to a stop, they all climbed out of the cars and made their way to the barrier. The Doctor could see a plane moving through the air, but its trajectory was all wrong. It was moving both forwards and down, but it’s nose wasn’t pointed towards the earth. Something else was lowering it to the ground.

“It's the Monks. They've hijacked the plane,” Nardole informed him. “How did they do that?”

The Doctor could see that there were three figures moving back towards the pyramid. Then three different figures came out of it.

“Oh, they're fine. The crew are alive,” Nardole added.

Three more men came out.

“Who are those guys?” Bill asked.

“I think they're ours,” the Russian soldier, Ilya, observed.

“Yours?” Bill said.

“We targeted the pyramid with a missile,” he informed them.

There was a whoosh and something else was deposited by the plane. It seemed to be a submarine, though it was now planted nose-first in the desert, nowhere near water.

“From a submarine,” Ilya finished.

“So demonstrating strength isn't going to help,” the Doctor concluded.

Then a Monk’s voice echoed across from the pyramid. “We are ready to talk.”

After a quick discussion about what to do, the barrier was raised and the group made their way towards the pyramid. They entered through the narrow gap in the base of a pyramid and found themselves in a long, presumably dark passageway. The Doctor paused and let Nardole and the Secretary-General pass him as he took in the new surroundings.

He felt Bill bump into him as he raised a hand to feel the walls. They were stone.

“I mean, this is a trap, right?” his daughter asked.

“Possibly,” he agreed before amending his statement. “Probably.” He started forwards.

“And we're just walking into it?”

“Well, every trap you walk into is a chance to learn about your enemies,” he pointed out. “Impossible to set a trap without making a self-portrait of your own weaknesses.”

“Great. Unless it kills us.”

He turned to glance in her direction. “Well, you could say that about anything.”

They continued after the others until they reached a dead end. A single Monk was standing against the wall.

“The human race is about to end,” it declared. “The chain of events is already in motion. Life on Earth will cease by humanity's own hand. Observe.”

The wall slid open to reveal another room and they all started forwards again. About half a dozen Monks were standing around something in the centre of the room. It appeared to be a mess of thin cables suspended from the ceiling and pooling in a mess on the ground. A few of them were moving and the Doctor suspected that the Monks were plucking at them.

“Ah. The simulation machine looks a bit different from the outside,” he observed.

“We are modelling the future,” a Monk explained. “Each thread is a chain of days, leading to your end. We can detect when a catastrophe is about to occur.”

“And?” the Doctor demanded.

“Stop it from occurring.”

“You don't look much like guardian angels,” Brabbit put in.

“We have chosen this form to look like you.”

“You look like corpses,” the man pointed out.

“You are corpses to us. Your world is ending. You can do nothing. But we can save you.”

“Save us, then,” the Doctor challenged.

“To save you we must be asked,” the Monk informed him.

“Then what?”

“We will protect you.”

“How long for?” the Doctor demanded.

“Forever,” the Monk rasped.

The Doctor turned to the nearest soldier. “Do you understand now?” He began moving around the room. “Do you see? Asking them for help has conditions. Invite them in, and it will be the last free action you take.”

“If you do not ask for help, then see the days to come. These are the threads that lead to one year in your future. Take them as proof.”

Several of the threads seemed to have been pulled away from the rest of them. The Doctor and the others stepped forwards and each took hold of one of them. Images of Earth flashed through his head but in each picture it was dead. Nothing was left. Forests were gone, buildings in ruin. Everything wrecked and burning. There were natural disasters and not a glimpse of life. He heard horrified gasps around him, but he continued to watch the images go by.

“What was that?” Xiaolian gasped.

“Planet Earth with not a single living thing. Dead as the moon,” he explained.

“You seem pretty damn calm about it,” Brabbit accused.

The Doctor finally let go of the thread. “Do I? Oh, I'm sorry. It's not my first dead planet.”

“Ask for help. It will be given,” the Monk insisted.

“Why do you need to be asked?” the Doctor questioned.

“Power must consent.”

“‘Power must consent’,” he repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Those who hold power on this world must consent to our dominion.”

The Doctor stepped towards the Monk. “Why?”

The phones rang again. _11:59_.

“One minute to midnight,” Nardole said.

The Doctor ignored him. “You could take this planet in a— in a heartbeat. Why do you need consent?”

“We must be wanted. We must be loved. To rule through fear is inefficient,” the Monk explained.

“Of course. Fear is temporary. Love . . . is slavery.”

He knew how hard it was to let go of what you love, he had done it more than most people. It never got easier. He knew there really was a sort of power to love and he hated seeing it being abused in this way.

“If consent is what you need, I consent now,” the Secretary-General agreed.

“No. No, don't do this. Please, don't even consider this!” the Doctor insisted.

“What I saw was real. I felt it,” the man said. “If you can help us, I consent.”

“Please, listen to me!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“Do you have power?” the Monk asked.

“I have power,” the Secretary-General agreed.

“Does power consent?”

“Please, stop. Just stop this!” The Doctor looked between the two, desperately wishing he could see what was happening.

“If your consent is impure, it will kill you,” the Monk informed him.

“Impure? What does that mean, impure?” the Doctor frowned.

“You act out of fear,” the Monk declared. “Fear is not consent.”

The Secretary-General let out a gasp and there was a sound like sand falling to the ground. The man’s tag vanished from the Doctor’s shades and he heard his daughter gasp. Moving quickly, he stood in front of the glowing threads and turned to face the Monk that had killed the Secretary-General.

“Planet Earth does not consent to your help, your presence, or your conquest,” he declared. “Thank you for playing the big pyramid game. Bye, bye. See you again next week, hopefully not.”

He hopped off the step and moved towards the exit.

“Without our help, Planet Earth is doomed,” the Monk hissed.

The Doctor stopped and turned to face him. “Yes? Well, it's been doomed before. Guess what happened?” He pointed to himself and grinned at his daughter. “Me!”

Still grinning, he hurried out of the room, leaving the Monk to growl after them. They made their way back to the cars and drove back up to the UN base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this. Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought!
> 
> So, I haven't started writing the next episode yet. However, all the original dialogue is in a Google Doc so I've done something. But as I was formating the dialogue, I realised that "The Lie of the Land" is gonna be one of the hardest ones. There's so much voice-over and internal thoughts and recorded voice-over that will need to be shuffled around so that it makes sense. Also, I need to rewrite the scene with Bill and the Monk because the original won't really work with this story and I haven't quite decided the best way of doing it.
> 
> Anyway, I'll do my best to get it all done as quickly as I can.
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	33. The Pyramid at the End of the World Part 3

“Why do they need consent?” Brabbit asked when they had all gathered around the table.

“Maybe they're like vampires. Can't come in unless they're invited,” Bill suggested.

The Doctor looked up at her, not sure whether or not she was being serious. “They're not vampires,” he informed her.

“The future we saw. Is it the war? Do we bring that future about?” Xiaolian inquired.

“That would seem to be the most obvious conclusion,” the Doctor agreed.

“No. I say, no,” she insisted. “Friend, I will not fight you.”

“We are just soldiers in the field,” Ilya pointed out.

“Are we too afraid to disobey?” Xiaolian demanded.

“I'm not,” Brabbit declared.

“Neither am I,” Ilya added a moment later.

“This is amazing,” Bill breathed.

“What do you think, Mister President? Did we just give peace a chance?” Brabbit asked.

The Doctor got to his feet and moved towards the far wall. “The clock,” he said, moving to stand in front of the object in question.

“Sorry?” Brabbit said.

“Look at the clock,” the Doctor instructed.

“Still one minute to midnight,” Nardole read.

“It made no difference,” Xiaolian despaired. “How could this make no difference?”

“Because it's not you who's going to end the world. You were never the problem,” the Doctor explained.

“Then who is the problem?” Bill demanded.

“Something is happening somewhere else. Somewhere in the world, in silence or in darkness, the world is ending right now. And we have to find out where.”

“This is impossible,” Brabbit declared. “We can't search a whole planet in a few minutes.”

“Narrow it down,” the Doctor said. “They landed the pyramid in the middle of a military crisis. What was the point of that?”

There was a pause before Bill spoke up. “Okay, what was the point?”

“What was the effect?” he prompted. “They told us the world was ending in a potential war zone. What did we assume was going to happen?”

“World War Three,” she replied.

“But it didn't. The trick with misdirection, don't look where the arrow is pointing, look where it's pointing away from. So, what's already on our radar that we should be worried about right now? Forget about war. What else could end the world?”

“Bacteria,” Nardole suggested.

“I like the sound of that.”

“New strain of flu? Plague?” Xiaolian guessed.

“People can be immune. And whatever it is will kill all life on Earth, not just humans,” the Doctor pointed out. “Plague discriminates. So this isn't a plan, it's a mistake. Somebody, somewhere, is doing something that's about to blow up in everybody's face.”

He hurried across the room and began touching each of the screens along the wall, using his sonic sunglasses to hack into databases around the world.

“What are you doing?” Ilya asked.

“The distraction tells us that whatever's coming is already on a watchlist. I just put all the top-secret intelligence documents in the world online in searchable format!” the Doctor declared.

“What!” Brabbit exclaimed.

“Sit down and google,” the Doctor instructed, pointing at no one in particular.

He heard people moving around the room and his shades showed that they were all moving to one of the computer in the room.

Several long minutes later, nobody had come up with anything.

“Doctor, listen,” Brabbit started.

“What?” he demanded.

“Isn't it worth at least just considering doing the deal?”

“What deal?” he snapped.

“All we have to do is consent,” Brabbit said.

“That's what the Secretary-General thought. They burned him,” the Doctor reminded him.

“He was afraid. I'm not being afraid, I'm being smart.”

The Doctor took a step towards the man, running his fingers along the edge of the desk to keep from bumping into it. “Yeah, being smart is not giving away your planet.” Then he turned to the rest of the room. “So, an accident, leading to irrevocable consequences. I like bacteria. They can spread. Once they're out, you can't put them away again. What could they do? What do you depend on?”

“Air, water, food, beer,” Nardole supplied.

“Air, water and food,” the Doctor echoed. “Let's say something's going to change, something is going to be released. Something . . . new, something fast. I'm feeling . . .” He paused, trying to think. “I'm feeling biochemical! Check biochemical trials.”

“Yes, sir,” Nardole replied.

“Doctor. That world was dead a year from now,” Brabbit said. “We should at least go in there and talk.”

“There are about a hundred thousand biochemical trials going on right now,” Nardole informed them.

“Specifically related to GM bacteria,” the Doctor specified.

“Er, six thousand?” Nardole said, sounding unsure.

“How many have reached stage two?” the Doctor asked before turning back to Brabbit. “You cannot accept their offer.”

“Why not?” Ilya demanded.

“Because whatever the price is, it's too high,” the Doctor said.

“We'll work it out,” Brabbit insisted.

“Four hundred and twenty-eight,” Nardole supplied.

“It's too many,” Xiaolian despared. “And we don't even know if you're right.”

“Well, I probably am,” the Doctor shrugged.

“‘Probably’ isn't good enough!” Brabbit exclaimed.

“Well, ‘probably’ is all you've got. It's your planet. I can't just give it away,” the Doctor snapped.

“You know what, sir? Finally, you've said something I agree with,” Brabbit said. “It's our planet. Our choice.”

“You can't make a deal with them. You don't what you're agreeing to. I don't know,” the Doctor stressed.

“All I know is, I plan on living to fight another day,” Brabbit explained. “Right now, what we don't have is a whole lot of other days.”

“Agreed,” Xiaolian chimed in.

“Also agreed,” Ilya said.

“Doctor,” Bill spoke up. She got to her feet and started towards him. “Is it just possible that they're right?”

“Being right is easy. We need to win,” he insisted.

“All these soldiers in the room, and you're the only one still fighting,” she pointed out.

“Would you make the deal? Even not knowing what's going to happen?” he asked.

“Those guys have modelled every event in human history to find our weak spot. Are you going to do the same in a couple of minutes?” she challenged?

“Would you make the deal?” he repeated, desperate for an answer.

“No. Not if I had a choice,” she declared. “But we don't, do we?”

“But if it was your— I mean, it's your world,” he pressed.

“Not any more,” Brabbit interrupted, his voice devoid of emotion. “Okay, back to the pyramid and negotiate our surrender.”

The soldiers left and the Doctor let out a heavy sigh.

_This is exactly why I hate the military,_ he reminded himself.

“Doctor?” Bill called. He turned to look in her direction, desperately wishing he could see her face. “What are you going to do?”

He made a split second decision. “Well for a start, I'm going to tell you the truth. I've been keeping a secret from you.”

He crossed the room to stand directly in front of his daughter. Then he slowly raised a hand to remove his sunglasses. But he froze as he touched them.

_Of course!_

“Doctor?” Bill asked.

“We can blind them,” he said. “That's how we do it. We blind them!”

“Blind who? The Monks?” she clarified.

“Bill, go to the pyramid. Keep an eye on them all,” he instructed. “Nardole, with me. To the TARDIS.”

He started running towards the door.

“Yes, sir,” Nardole said.

“Have you got a plan?” Bill called after him.

He turned to point at her. “You'll be hearing from me.”

Once in the TARDIS, the Doctor reached for one of the monitors and pulled up the UNIT watch list. Then he pushed the monitor in front of Nardole and began pacing around the console.

“Okay, here's the list of labs on the UNIT watch list,” he said. “If they're being watched, that means they've got CCTV cameras with feeds to UNIT HQ.” He pulled off his sunglasses. “Can you hack them?”

“Course I can, I'm not just sexy. But there's four hundred and twenty-eight of them. We can't watch them all,” Nardole pointed out.

Hearing footsteps behind him, the Doctor asked. “Are you following me?”

“Yeah, I think I get it,” Nardole said.

“Yes, well, we're not going to watch them, we're going to switch them off. Can you do that?” the Doctor asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the fact that he could still hear the other man following him around the console.

“What good would switching them off do?” Nardole asked.

“If I'm right, the Monks are only watching one of those labs. How would they do that?” the Doctor prompted.

“Well, I suppose they'd just . . . hack the cameras!”

“So switch 'em off,” the Doctor instructed.

He heard Nardole typing rapidly before clapping his hands together.

“Okay, so, we've blinded them. But whatever's happening is still happening,” Nardole said.

“Yep.”

“And the Monks are powerful. They can just turn the cameras back on,” he pointed out.

“Yes, they can,” the Doctor agreed. “But they're only watching one lab. So all we need to know is which lab just got its cameras back?”

The machine dinged and Nardole exclaimed, “Oh, you genius!”

“Boom,” the Doctor said, moving towards the console and pulling the lever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remembered to update! I almost forgot, but I remembered! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think!
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	34. The Pyramid at the End of the World Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheh. So . . . I forgot to update on Wednesday. But I'm here now!

They landed a few minutes later. The Doctor put his shades back on and stepped out of the TARDIS. The only person in the lab was a small human female.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed.

“No, I'm the Doctor, but it's an easy mistake to make,” he replied. “The eyebrows.”

“How did you do that? What is that thing?” she asked.

“It's Nardole. He's not my fault.” He turned to Nardole. “Back to the TARDIS. This place is toxic.”

“I'm not human,” Nardole protested.

“Oh, you're human enough. I got your lungs cheap,” the Doctor informed him.

“Ugh, now he tells me,” Nardole huffed, but the Doctor heard him moving away.

“Park her close. Monitor me,” he instructed. “Oh, tidy up your room?”

Nardole groaned and vanished into the TARDIS. The doors clicked shut behind him and the Doctor turned back to the woman.

“You have a problem, I believe,” he said.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

“Don't be alarmed, we don't have time. Just jump straight to all the explaining,” he requested.

She obeyed, telling him him what the lab was working on and how she had asked one of her colleagues to do the mixing and he had accidentally put a decimal point in the wrong place.

When she had finished, the Doctor used the sonic shades to phone his daughter. When she answered, he began talking.

“Okay, found it. Lab in Yorkshire. Long story short, misplaced decimal point resulting in a bacteria that turns any living thing it touches into gunk.”

“So why is it going to end the world? Has it been dispersed already?” Brabbit asked.

“Ah, no, it's still in the lab. I think I can contain it,” the Doctor informed them.

“We give him two minutes and we're heading in. Agreed?” Brabbit suggested.

“Agreed,” Ilya said.

The Doctor hurried back to the woman to see if he could find out what she was doing.

“We have an air filtration system to take toxins out of the air,” she explained. “It runs a cycle every thirty minutes. It's going to pump the bacteria into the atmosphere.”

“So switch it off,” he suggested.

“I can't.”

“Oh.” _Of course it’s never that easy,_ the Doctor frowned. “Right, okay, when's the next cycle?”

“Twenty minutes,” she replied.

“What!” he exclaimed. Letting out a sigh, he touched his shades so he could speak to his daughter.

Brabbit was the first to speak. “Anything?”

“The venting system is automatic. This is going to be trickier than I thought,” he informed them.

His glasses chimed and displayed the time. Only twenty seconds until midnight. _Twenty minutes._

“We're going in,” Brabbit declared.

The call ended and the Doctor was left to come up with a solution. He knew he needed to come up with something fast, before the idiot soldiers made a decision they would regret.

“Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think,” he muttered. “Stupid Doctor. Stupid, stupid, stupid—” He broke off as inspiration struck. “Handsome Doctor! Adorable, hugely intelligent, but still approachable Doctor!” Spotting a bundle of wires , he hurried over to them and snatched them up. “What's another way to destroy bacteria?”

“Sterilisation,” she answered automatically.

“And how do you sterilise something?” he prompted, shaking the wires loose.

“Put it in boiling water,” she replied.

“Or?”

“Put it in a flame,” she said.

“She's got it,” he exclaimed, picking up a thermos and tucking it under his arm. “By George, she's got it! I'm not going to lie to you. This means that your insurance premiums are going to go through the roof. In fact, pretty much everything is going to go through the roof, because I'm going to blow up the lab.” He crossed to the other desk and began rummaging around. “We just need some kind of a trigger, first.”

“But what are you going to blow it up with?” she asked. Then she gasped. “The bacteria is making ethanol. The greenhouse and the lab are full of it!”

“Seriously, what are you doing when this is all over?” he asked.

He began fitting together all the bits and bobs he had picked up.

“Is this going to work?” the woman asked as she helped him tape it all together.

“Trust me. I pop it in there. Machine goes ping. Lab goes boom. World is saved. You develop a pretty intense crush on me,” he declared. “Okay. Go through to the machine room. You're going to have to let me back in when I'm done. How long before the vents kick in?”

“Four minutes,” she replied.

He felt around for the wires he had left on a chair. Then his daughter’s voice came over his sunglasses.

“Doctor, you still there?” she asked.

“There's no way of stopping the lab venting, so I'm going to sterilise the building by blowing it up. Everything in here will be destroyed,” he explained as he fitted the wires into the device.

“Including you?”

“Not if I pull my socks up,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet.

“Honest answer. You going to do it?” she asked.

“Course I'm going to do it,” he promised

“Because they're still offering a deal, and I'm the only one left,” she informed him.

“Tell them you're flattered but don't,” he instructed before muting her once more.

The woman’s voice came over the intercom as he made his way through the greenhouse. “Can you hear me?”

“I don't even know your name,” he replied.

“Erica.”

Spotting what looked like two flower beds, he hurried over to them and began setting up his bomb. “Did you always want to be a scientist, Erica?”

“Since I was about eight. Before that, I wanted to be a bus driver, because I liked how they waved at other bus drivers.”

Once he had stuck one end of the wires into the gunk, he touched the bottom left corner of the timer where he guessed the minute button was. It beeped so he touched it again.

“Okay, I've given us two minutes,” he told Erica, hoping for his own sake that he was right. _For all I know, it might only be two seconds._

“Right, you need to get out of there,” she warned.

He touched the bottom right corner and the timer began beeping once a second. Two seconds passed and it didn’t blow up so he turned and ran for the exit. He passed through the two heavy doors and ran through the lab.

“Hello, I'm the Doctor, saving the world with my eyes shut,” he boasted.

His sonic shades were showing the time again, but it was rapidly going backwards, getting further away from midnight.

Bill’s voice came over the sunglasses. “Doctor, the clock's going back. Have you done it?”

“Yes, I have! I'm totally the President of Earth, and from now on, two planes! One for me and one for my glamorous assistant, Erica. Say hello to the folks at home, Erica, and let me through the door,” he requested. “Bill, get the hell out of that pyramid!”

“I can't open it. It's under emergency protocol. You need to use the combination lock. Set it to three-six-one-four,” Erica instructed.

The Doctor looked at the lock by the door. The shades showed him the shap of the four wheels, but they didn’t show him the numbers. Pulling the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, he pointed it at the lock, but it didn’t unlock it. All it did was give him the numbers Erica had already provided.

He let out an uneasy breath and reached for the lock, hoping he could feel the numbers. The four wheels spun easily, but they were perfectly smooth.

“Ah, you're going to have to guide me,” he called to Erica.

“I can't see it from here,” she said. “You can see it, right?”

“How long have I got?” he asked.

“One minute forty. Three-six-one-four,” Erica repeated. “Come on.”

“Doctor, what's happening? You okay?” Bill asked.

The Doctor started. He had nearly forgotten that his daughter was still listening. “Bill, sorry, uh, slight hitch. Working on it.”

“What's the problem?”

“Three-six-one-four. I need to open the door, but I can't, er, see the numbers,” he admitted.

“One minute twenty,” Erica warned.

“I don't understand the problem,” Bill said.

He knew it would be so easy to admit the truth—to explain why he couldn’t see the numbers—but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Combination lock. All the sonic will do is calculate the number. I still have to enter it.” Suddenly releasing that there was a camera in the lab, he touched the sunglasses and contacted his assistant. “Nardole! Nardole! Nardole, I need you to do a visual on the lab. There's a camera in here.”

There was no response.

“Nardole? Nardole, can you hear me?”

“I don't understand the problem. Just open the door,” Bill insisted.

“I can't,” he replied.

“Why can't you?” she demanded.

“Because I'm blind,” he finally admitted. “I'm sorry, I'm blind.”

“What, what do you mean, blind? What are you talking about?” Bill stammered.

“I lied. I've been blind since Chasm Forge. I didn't get my sight back. I've been lying to you. There's a combination lock with numbers and . . . I can't see them.” The Doctor raised his hand to reach towards the lock.

“You're an idiot. You are the stupidest idiot ever!” she exclaimed. The tears in her voice were breaking his hearts. “But I'm not going to let you die.”

“No. You have to. There's no choice. No one else can help me now,” he said.

“The Monks. The Monks can help you,” she suggested.

“No!” he exclaimed. “Bill, no, don't do that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I made a mistake. I have to face that. But do not ask the Monks for help,” he commanded. There was no response. “Bill!”

“Doctor. This planet needs you, so I'm making an executive decision. I'm keeping you alive,” she informed him.

“Bill, listen to me, please. I don't know what consenting allows them to do to you. You don't know what you're agreeing to!” he pointed out.

“Can you give him his sight back?” she asked.

“His sight can be restored,” a Monk hissed.

The Doctor listened with horror as his daughter said, “Then— Then I'm asking you for help. I'm giving my consent.”

“Is your consent pure?” the Monk said.

“Just give him his sight back! You can have the world, just make him see again,” Bill begged. “I consent.”

There was a pause before the Monk spoke again.

“You act out of love. Love is consent,” it concluded. “We must be loved.”

“Bill! Do not make this deal! I forbid it!” the Doctor exclaimed.

She didn’t respond.

“Bill, can you hear me? What's happening? Bill? Bill?” he called desperately. “Amelia?”

There was still no response, but something else was happening. The black spaces between the green lines he could see through his shades were slowly being replaced by fuzzy shapes and dark colours. He pulled off the sunglasses and let out a breath. The darkness around had been replaced by bright and colourful and extremely blurry shapes. He raised a hand and watched as it came into focus, the fuzzy edge becoming crisp as his vision cleared. He could see!

Spotting the lock, he dived towards it, quickly entering the number. It beeped and he pulled the door open, closing it tightly behind him. He went through the second door and turned, just in time to see a fireball rush into the lab from the greenhouse.

“Bill, what have you done?” he breathed.

Her voice came from the sunglasses he now held in his hand. “I'll tell you what, old man. You'd better get my planet back!”

“Enjoy your sight, Doctor,” the Monk hissed. “Now see our world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this last part! Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought!
> 
> Next chapter will be a flashback! It'll be out on Wednesday or next Saturday or whenever I remember to post it. Then it'll probably be a while before "The Lie of the Land" is finished.
> 
> Anyway, have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


	35. Younger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I was in the process of uploading it when I decided I wanted to read through it and make some changes before publishing it. I hope you enjoy.

_“How's the new school?” River asked._

_“It's okay,” Bill replied as she helped her mother set the table. “Half of my teachers insist on calling me ‘Amelia’.”_

_“That is your name,” the Doctor pointed out, a fond smile on his face._

_“Well, yeah,” she conceded. “But nobody calls me that.”_

_He chuckled softly as he pulled a dish out of the oven. He knew his daughter loved her name, but it had been years since she had let anyone use it. She preferred her nickname._

_River was busy setting the cutlery by the plates. “Did you meet any cute boys?” she asked._

_Bill made a disgusted face. “Ew, Mum, no!” she protested. “You know I don't like boys that way.”_

_River let out a laugh. “I know, I'm just teasing.”_

_The Doctor laughed as their daughter stuck her tongue out at her mother._

_“So if you didn't notice any cute boys, how about cute girls?” River went on._

_Bill shrugged but the Doctor could have sworn he saw her blush faintly. Then she frowned. “I still don't see why I had to change schools.”_

_“You do know,” the Doctor corrected as he handed her a dish of food to take to the table. “It's closer and the schedule is more similar to your mother and my schedule so we'll have more of an overlap of our holidays.”_

_“I know, but— Well, I had friends at my last school. I don't know anyone at this one,” she admitted._

_“You'll make new friends,” River assured her. “Just like you made friends when you first started school.”_

_“Yeah, I suppose,” Bill murmured._

_The Doctor watched his daughter as she took her seat at the table. She was avoiding their gazes and he was left with the distinct feeling that something was bothering her._

_Later that evening, he made his way to his daughter's room. She was sitting at her desk, her head bent over her work. She looked up when he tapped on her open door._

_“Can I come in?” he asked._

_She shrugged and nodded. He entered the room and took a seat in a chair near her desk._

_“What happened today?” he asked._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Something's telling me something went wrong today and you don't want us to know,” he said._

_Bill frowned. “What makes you think something went wrong?”_

_“Well, for one thing, you've never been so reluctant to discuss your crushes with your mum,” he pointed out. She ducked her head, looking sheepish. “And for another, I've known you your whole life and I think I've learned to tell when you're lying. So what happened?”_

_She hesitated for a moment before explaining. “Well, Mum said I'd make new friends, right?”_

_“Of course you will,” he assured her. “You're a wonderful girl.”_

_She offered him a weak smile. “I know, but— It's just— I noticed something today that I hadn't noticed at the last school since I grew up alongside the kids there. But today I realised that I'm significantly younger than all the kids in my class. And the class below mine. . . . And the class below that.”_

_The Doctor frowned. “But you started at the same age as everyone else and you never skipped a year, even though we did discuss that as a possibility. How are you younger than them?”_

_“I mean I look younger,” Bill clarified._

_“Oh.” His frown deepened and he leaned forward slightly to get a better look at her face. “Do you?”_

_She laughed. “I know you can't tell,” she grinned. Then her expression became serious again. “But everyone I met thought I was twelve.”_

_“There's nothing wrong with looking younger than you are.”_

_“Maybe for you, but I'm nearly sixteen!” she pointed out. “I know it's because I'm a Time Lord, but how am I supposed to make any friends if everyone thinks I'm lying when I say I'm fifteen.”_

_“You know you're not lying.”_

_Bill jumped. She and the Doctor turned to see River standing in the doorway. She came into the room and nudged her husband over so she could join him on the chair._

_“But how does that help?” Bill asked._

_“Because it doesn't matter what they think of you,” River reminded her. “You know you're not twelve and you know you're smart enough to be in university. Soon enough, at least some of the other kids will realise it doesn't matter how old you look and you'll make your real friends.”_

_“Yeah, I suppose,” Bill shrugged. She glanced at her work. “I need to get back to this.”_

_“Of course,” the Doctor said. He pushed his wife to her feet so he could get up as well. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Love you.”_

_“I love you too, Dad.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and then turned back to her book. He gave her another kiss, this time to the top of her head, before leaving the room._

_The Doctor tossed his coat over the back of his wife's vanity chair before attacking the buttons on his shirt._

_“Doctor,” River called._

_He could hear the frown in her voice but he didn't look up from the buttons._

_“Hmm?”_

_She didn't continue so he finally looked up to find her watching him. She was sitting on their bed, leaning against the headboard. The blanket was pulled up to her waist and she was wearing one of his hoodies with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her hair was loose and her curls tumbled into her eyes, but the look in those eyes made him pause._

_“River?”_

_“Can we talk?”_

_He frowned. “Yes of course.” Ignoring his half buttoned shirt, he made his way over to the bed so he could sit by his wife. “What's wrong?”_

_“Bill's almost sixteen,” she said._

_“Yeah?”_

_“So we've got just under four years left,” she pointed out._

_“Oh.”_

_The Doctor felt the colour drain from his face. He had gotten so used to living on Darillium with his family that had all but forgotten that their time was limited. But River was right. They had been living there for over twenty years. Their time was almost up._

_He instinctively reached for his wife, pulling her into his arms. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder._

_“I don't want to lose you. I've never wanted to lose you, but that's not what I'm really worried about,” she admitted. “I've thought I lost you several times so I'm sure I can survive actually losing you, no matter how much I don't want to, but—”_

_“But you're worried about Bill,” he finished._

_She nodded. “We weren't planning on having her, but I can't even begin to imagine what our life would have been like without her.”_

_“Neither can I,” he murmured._

_“When we found out I was pregnant, we decided we weren't going to worry about what was going to happen to her until we had to and I haven't. To be honest, I'd almost forgotten about it,” River continued._

_“So had I. What made you think of it tonight?”_

_“Bill. She was saying how she was almost sixteen and— I don't know. It just reminded me of the fact that all this is almost over.”_

_The Doctor ran a hand over her curls, burying his nose in her hair. He loved the smell of her hair. It made him feel at home._

_They were quiet for a moment before River went on. “I just love her so much and I don't want to lose her, but more importantly, I want her to be safe.”_

_“Maybe you don't have to lose her. She’ll be twenty so she could always go to Luna with you,” he suggested._

_River shook her head. “I think we both know that's not really an option. I don't know what's going to happen to me after this, but I don't— Anyway, I don't think Bill should be with me.”_

_The Doctor was very glad she couldn't see his face. But just in case she decided to turn, he buried it in her hair once more. Then he pressed a kiss to her head._

_“What makes you think something's going to happen to you?” he mumbled._

_“Well, for one thing, I can't imagine I'd live for that long without ever seeing you again,” she replied. “Besides, I've seen the way you stare at me when you don't think I see you. I don't know how to describe your expression, but you look so miserable and lost and hopeless and like you know something bad is going to happen to me and you wish there was something you could do about it.”_

_His grip on her tightened. “You know I can't say anything.”_

_“I know.”_

_He began pressing kisses to her neck and jaw._

_“But what are we going to do about Bill? Will you take her with you?” River asked._

_“I suppose so,” he replied between kisses. “But I had thought— Well, I had thought that I could take her to Gallifrey.”_

_“Gallifrey?” she repeated._

_“Yes. She could attend the Academy and actually be with her own people rather than with pudding-brained humans.”_

_The insult earned him an elbow to the ribs, though the blow was gentle._

_“But don't Time Lords start at the Academy when they're eight?”_

_The Doctor shrugged. “Yeah, but she shouldn't be too far behind. She reads a lot and we've taught her a lot. You're even teaching her how to fly the TARDIS which is something most Time Lords aren't taught unless they need to know it for their job.”_

_“I suppose you're right and it probably would be good for her to be with Time Lords,” River murmured. “I only wish we could be there with her.”_

_“I know. So do I. But at least our time isn't up quite yet.”_

_She turned so she could press a kiss to his lips. His hand made its way to the back of her head and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. They pulled back a moment later and their eyes met._

_“I love you,” they breathed in unison. Then they laughed softly and he pulled her back for another kiss._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this! I quite liked this chapter. Don't forget to leave a comment letting me know what you thought.
> 
> So, I still haven't really started writing "The Lie of the Land" but I'll get around to it. The next chapter will be up when it's up and not a moment earlier.
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> Bye!


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